The Psychopath Test
by RachaelEwe
Summary: What kind of teenager will Carl grow up to be? He shot and killed his own mother, he killed Shane, he's living in a walker infested world where he's had to do anything in order to survive. How could this kid turn out stable? Is Carl able to feel compassion, remorse, and love? Or has he lost it all along the way? Carl/OC - Rated M for a reason
1. Chapter 1: I've earned it

It's been 3 years, give or take a few months. It's the third summer since the outbreak, I have no idea what month, all I know is it's hot and the sun is blazing down on me. According to the road signs along this deserted highway, I am in the outskirts of Atlanta. Georgia, _how in the hell did I make it this far_?

There's an orchard to my right, peach trees. I collect the sweet fruit and allow myself to enjoy a moment of relaxation. The juice drips in between my lips and down to my chin as I take a bite.

_When's the last time I ate a peach?_ I wonder, scanning the area for any sign of the walking dead, the coast is clear. I rest my legs, sliding down the trunk of the tree and relishing the shade the canopy above me provides. A part of me, _the old me_, wants to spend the entire day in this field. I briefly imagine myself in a breezy, yellow, cotton dress, one of those southern bell hats on top of my head, sipping ice cold peach tea reading a book, or perhaps sharing in light conversation with a lifelong friend.

That is the life I imagine the person who owned this farm had lived, _before things went to shit_. I flex and stretch my long, slender legs. The muscles feel tight from walking all day and my ankles ache and burn. I see a zombie approaching and that's my cue to go.

* * *

_A prison_?

I am standing outside of a prison, fruits and vegetables growing in the yard once occupied by shackled psychopaths and criminals.

_Someone didn't leave_ _and I don't blame them_, the luxury of being able to hide behind bars and a barbed wire fence sounds like the perfect place to make home in a zombie infested world.

I link my fingers in the chain link fence and scan the structure in front of me for any other signs of life _or death_.

I see a toddler girl and an older woman with a buzz cut playing in the grass. I rattle the fence, gaining their attention and wave them over silently, careful not to attract the attention of any zombies that may be lurking around.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" The woman asks, her face losing the softness exhibited a few moments prior while playing with the small child. "Yes." I reply honestly, repressing the urge to add '_obviously_' how else would I be alive?

"Empty any weapons into the bucket if you want to enter the yard, if we find anything dangerous on you we won't hesitate to kill you." The woman's words seem rehearsed and hollow. I look up at the prison, and then back to the woman, then behind me, weighing my options in my mind before finally obeying her rules. The gate slides open loudly and I enter just as a zombie emerges from the trees.

I wait for further instruction taking in the structure before me, the woman casts me a warm smile for I am no longer a threat to her or her child. "You're awfully young to be wondering these parts on your own, you don't belong to a group?" She asks quietly, scooping up the toddler in her arms as we make our way across the yard and towards the prison doors. "No group, just me." I reply avoiding eye contact and keeping my head up, scanning the area for any sign of imminent danger, _not that I can defend myself properly_. The thought brings me to ask "Will I get my weapons back?" before she can ask me anything else. She looks over at me meeting my anxious gaze, "Yes, so long as you are not a threat. If you decided to stay and join our group it may take a few days before that trust is earned, but if you wish to leave at anytime your belongings will be returned to you and you will be on your way, free to go" I nod in understanding, feeling vulnerable without my knives and gun but agreeing that her terms are indeed fair as I mentally place myself in her shoes.

"Go on." The woman urges, I scan the cell. "You're going to lock me up?" I ask, my voice rising slightly in alarm.

"Yes, it won't take long for the leader of our group to question you, like I said if you wish to leave-"

I walk into the cell and sit in one of two folding metal chairs placed in the room. The doors slide shut and are locked behind me. "Would you like a glass of water?" The woman offers, setting down the baby girl. "Yes, _please_." I answer, not forgetting my manners.

I sip the cool liquid, feeling a little less nervous now as I wait to be interrogated by the leader of the pack, the alpha. I try to imagine what this person will be like, I decide on a male, mid 30's, muscular and bald, an image of a wrestler flashes in my mind. I do not expect a boy to join me, a boy younger than myself. My eyes widen in shock and I hold in the urge to rudely gape at him and demand to know where the _real_ leader is.

"Hello." The boy states his tone cold and uncaring. A pair of chilling blue eyes lock on mine and I feel myself glaring slightly as his fingers brush against the pistol strapped to his waist. It's as if he's doing this on purpose, _he wants me to see the gun to feel fear. _

"Hi." I echo back.

"Do you have any weapons on you?" He asks, stalking closer I can't help but feel as if I am the victim and he is the killer in some twisted horror movie.

His eyes hold a glimmer of mistrust as if mentally daring me to try anything, just so he can have the pleasure of murdering me.

"No." I reply calmly, holding his suspicious gaze and letting him know that I am not at all afraid of him.

"Mind if I check?" It's not a question it's a statement so I don't respond. I watch with anger as he rips through my backpack, tossing out my belongings carelessly as if they possess no value. Nothing is suspicious is found in his search. He stands back up towering over me and I slowly bring my head up to meet his irritated gaze. I cock an eyebrow and he glares harshly before leaning down and patting my ankles, then knees, then thighs, I want to punch this kid in the face and I will if he tries to cop a feel. He doesn't. He comes to my stomach and touches my waist feeling a slight bulge by the curve of my hip bone. He smirks, lifting up my t-shirt before I can stop him revealing a concealed pocketknife. I jump up with the speed of a cobra ready to strike. I push him away from me bu it's too late he already has my knife clutched in his hand. I kick him as hard as I can in the shin, pain flashes across his face before he pins me to the cement wall with such force the wind is nearly knocked out of my lungs. He has my pocket knife flipped open, the silver blade pressed against the tender skin of my neck. I lock my jaw in anger and glare daggers at him. _If looks could kill..._ He holds me there for a few seconds longer, trying to intimidate me, toying with me to show me who has all the power in this situation. I decide then that I hate this boy.

"I should kill you." He growls.

"It's hardly a weapon." I retort coldly, feeling like a child arguing with her father.

"Hardly?" He questions angrily, dragging the blade across my throat. I feel a light sting as the air hits the blood oozing from the shallow wound. I literally growl, struggling against him, I want to kill this bastard.

He drops the blade suddenly, and whips out a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket. I attempt to punch him in the jaw but his left hand grabs my wrist having predicted the move easily. I knee him in the groin and he hisses out in pain, but that doesn't stop him from tackling me to the ground. The want-to-be sheriff handcuffs me roughly and leaves me alone locked in my cage like an animal. I feel the rage boiling over as I stumble back on my feet and stick my head in between the steel bars. "**_Let me out!_**" I scream with such fury I wouldn't be surprised if the cement walls around me began to crumble.

* * *

To my surprise I spend my first night in prison actually behind bars, handcuffed and without food or water. I hardly sleep that night even though I am relatively safe, at least from _zombies_.

In the morning I am met with a new face, a man in a sheriffs outfit with bags under his eyes and a 5 o' clock shadow on his face.

He opens my cell and gently removes my handcuffs.

I massage my red, blistered wrists.

"My names Rick, I am in charge here. Do you wish to stay or leave?" He asks as I look up from my hands and into his soft blue eyes. I allow my instinct to 'read him' and I am met with a vibe of sincerity and justice, he seems like a man of his word,_ a good cop_.

"I would like to stay if that's still an option." I answer weakly and the man named Rick offers me a small smile. "What's your name?" he asks extending a hand, "Sam." I offer him my nickname, preferring it to Samantha, and shake his outstretched hand.

"Are you hungry Sam?" Rick asks as I follow him down the narrow corridor, my stomach gurgles obnoxiously in response.

"I'll take that as a yes." He chuckles in amusement.

The group is fairly big, at least bigger than I thought, I'm impressed to see so many survivors considering the world we live in.

Rick introduces me to everyone in the room including the woman from yesterday, whose name is Carol, and the boy who handcuffed me who happens to be Rick's 15 year old son, Carl.

A girl my age immediately strikes up a conversation as we all eat breakfast, which consists of a few squirrels a badass by the name of Daryl shot this morning.

"So where are you from Sam?" The girl, whose name is Beth asks. I examine her and come to realize we are complete opposites in appearance.

Brunette vs. Blond

Straight edgy layers vs. curled golden locks

bright hazel eyes vs. green/blue irisis

pale yankee skin vs. sunkissed southern bell

pessimistic frown vs. an optimistic grin

and then I answer.

"North, New York to be exact." I reply, taking a bite of my food.

"Did you live in the city?" Her interest peaks. _They always grow disinterested after I answer._

"No, an industrial small town."

She looks disapointed and bored, like I had predicted, before her face scrunches up in confusion.

"_So what exactly brought you to Georgia_?" Beth asks.

"It's on the way to Florida." I answer casually.

"What's in-?" She begins.

"_Islands_ off the Florida coast." I interrupt, "I planned on trying to survive on an island, fresh fish, low population so not a lot of zombies to take out, plus a view of the ocean would be lovely." I recite.

I look up and notice Carl eying me intently almost with interest as if I am a book the he hasn't decided whether or not he wants to read me, when our eyes meet he looks away back at his plate.

"That's an interesting plan." Rick joins our conversation, he seems to consider my theory.

"I haven't been to the ocean since I was a kid." Glenn grins sharing a thoughtful look with his girlfriend Maggie, briefly lost in some distant memory.

"Lucky, daddy never took us to a beach." Maggie teases, nudging her elderly father.

I finish my food and Beth decides to take it upon herself to show me around the prison. Carl invites himself to come along, him and Beth seem close and its obvious he still doesn't trust me to be alone with his little girlfriend.

"The showers are in here, along with a few towels in this locker." Beth explains and I can't help but genuinely smile, this place is like a five star resort compared to what I've been used to.

"This place is _insane_…" I trail, taking it all in and still unable to come up with an adequate word to describe my pleasure.

"If you try anything-" Carl warns but Beth interrupts him, "Carl be nice, she's our _guest_."

Beth and I smirk at Carl's pouting. I find it amusing his girlfriend and I are getting along so well, it's obvious he hates the idea of our friendship.

"So how old are you?" Beth changes topic with ease.

I have to literally stop to think about it. Beth and Carl turn back to face me when they've notice I'm lagging behind. Beth's face looks confused but Carl shares a look of brief understanding before he looks away.

"_I think I'm almost 18… my birthdays in January_." I mutter finally, taking in my age for the first time in a long while.

"I turn 18 this fall, I believe in another month or so." Beth shrugs, unlike me she's kept track of time.

I turn to face Carl unable to hold back my question any longer. "So why were _you_ the one to interrogate me yesterday? I mean your just a _kid_." I put emphasis on the last word just to toy with him.

Carl looks as if he is about to murder me before he recomposes himself and his frown morphs into a aloof smirk.

"I_t's funny that a kid was able to take you down so easily… makes you seem kind of pathetic_." He answers coolly.

I feel the anger rising in my chest.

"_You got lucky_." I growl.

"Carl is very brave and is a skilled fighter, he is our leader when Rick isn't here. We all respect him a lot." Beth intervenes, remaining loyal to her friend like a lap dog.

"_Cute_." I reply harshly. "It's like how I use to play house as a little girl, when I wasn't actually a mother. You're just a little boy playing sheriff although everyone can clearly see you are just pretending... it's like giving a kid a cookie to satisfy them. You're father is just keeping you satisfied, letting you believe you're the leader." I coo, knowing I hit a weak spot when Carl lunges straight at me. I am prepared this time and I dodge him with ease, tripping him in the process as he rams himself into a nearby aluminum locker. He gets to his feet quickly, his face flushed in embarrassment and rage. Beth grabs his arm gently, a motherly concern written on her features and I want to laugh cruelly in Carl's face. Beth is obviously another one of his fantasies, not _really_ his girlfriend; she only views him like a pesky little brother.

He shakes her hand off of his arm and storms out of the locker room leaving Beth and I alone. I can't help but release a suppressed giggle once he's gone.

"_It's not funny_, _you really got under his skin_." Beth frowns.

"_Good_, _he needs someone to put him in his place_." I counter back.

"He's had a rough time, he deserves the title of leader, you know nothing about him." Beth retorts sadly, chasing after her friend and leaving me alone. I grin in amusement; still joyous my words had such an impact on him. Revenge is sweet. I grab a towel and decide to enjoy a luxurious shower. _I've earned it._


	2. Chapter 2: Now, I win

I've been in prison for a week and I've learned a few things.

First, "walkers" the group's nickname for zombies, can get into the prison through the back. I learned this after my shower on the second day when Carl had to save me. I think that is his biggest regret, not feeding me to the walkers.

Second, the toddle girl's name is Judith and she is Carl's baby sister. Her mother is not Carol, her mother is dead meaning Carl's mother is dead.

Third, I have more fun hanging out with Carl than I do with Beth. I attribute this to the fact that we nearly rip out each others throats when we are in the same room together and our witty banter and fighting is much more entertaining than having to endure dull conversations with the southern bell.

Fourth, I think Carl and I fight so much because we have more in common than we like to believe, neither of us will ever admit to this of course.

So here I am sitting with my two post-apocalypse 'friends' in the watchtower.

"What do you guys miss the most?" Beth asks aloud, referring to before the age of walkers.

I ponder the question thoughtfully.

"The people. I never thought I'd miss the people… not just my family and friends, I miss society; life." I reply with a frown as I gaze across the prison yard.

"What about you Carl?" Beth asks gently.

He looks up from beneath his sheriff's hat his dark bangs sheltering his icy eyes from view.

"I don't know." He answers, his voice disinterested as he fingers the pistol in his palm.

"I miss music." Beth answers her own question, letting out a soft sigh.

We sit in silence for a few moments.

"I'll be back." Beth finally interrupts the dead space, I assume to use the bathroom.

The silence between Carl and I is comfortable, both of us not wanting to talk to the other, which is mutually agreed upon and therefore comforting.

"What happened to your mom?" I can't help but finally ask although I don't expect him to answer me.

"None of your business." He snaps coldly.

I shrug, "I know." I agree.

He side glances at me but I ignore his intense gaze.

"Where's _your_ parents?" Carl finally asks, in an attempt to get back at me for bringing up such a sensitive subject. He's throwing it back in my face.

"Dead." I respond, looking over at him. Our eyes finally lock and I can't help but admire his eyes, they are breathtaking, whether I want to admit it or not.

"I assume my dad turned, I imagine him walking aimlessly around New York somewhere craving brains. I know my mom turned, a police officer shot her brains out in our front yard, so I know she's no longer a walker, just dead." I swallow, feeling my chest tighten in sorrow.

"If my dad's alive he'd be in Florida, that's why I'm headed there, on false hope I guess." I add, talking more to myself than to Carl.

He looks away, out across the yard deep in thought.

"My mom died giving birth to my sister." Carl finally answers my question.

I stay silent. Both of us lost in our own depressing thoughts. The silence is more comforting now than ever before. I shudder slightly when Beth interrupts us.

"Time for dinner." She pokes her head in the doorway. Neither Carl nor I move for a very long moment, reluctant to face reality.

* * *

I can't sleep.

I slide gracefully off of my cot.

I need to take a walk.

I grab my machete in case I come across any walkers. I slip the case in between my jeans and hip and I'm on my way.

Being quiet not to wake up anyone in my cellblock, I make my silent journey to the watchtower.

I can't shake the feeling I am being followed, but as I peer over my shoulder for the second time I am met with nothing but my shadow in the dim moonlight.

Once I am in the watchtower I hear someone coming up the steps, assuming it's a walker I take out my knife and slide behind the door to conceal my body from its view so I can attack it from behind.

I lunge out and Carl barely dodges my blow. He grabs my wrist and pins me against the steel wall his eyes dialated in surprise.

"_What are you doing_?" He hisses angrily.

"_I thought you were a zombie, why are you following me_?" I accuse, struggling in his grip. He releases me and I slide my knife back into its leather case.

"_I wanted to see what you were up to_." Carl replies, his voice just as accusing.

"I couldn't sleep, It was too stuffy inside, I needed some air." I explain honestly, opening a few nearby windows in order to let in the cool night breeze. I lay down on the floor and peer out the windows surrounding us, taking in the gorgeous view of the star sprinkled sky and full moon.

Carl sits beside me before reclining back, his hands behind his head. We both lay there for a moment taking in the scenery and fresh air.

"Is there a reason you are still here?" I finally ask, my voice gentle and soft despite the rude comment.

"I don't trust you." Carl replies, his voice just as gentle despite the insult.

"I told you, a pocketknife is hardly a weapon and hardly a reason to not trust me." I sigh.

I feel Carl's eyes on my face so I look over at him, catching his gaze.

He leans over and runs a fingertip across my neck. I shiver slightly in response to his touch.

"_That says otherwise_." He whispers, amusement in his voice.

I look away, back at the sky.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice him remove his sheriffs hat and run his fingers through his messy mop of hair. I realize by the time he's done that I am staring at him. He raises a brow, probably wondering what I am staring at.

_I want to touch his hair. _

_I want to grab his hair and pull on it. _

Suddenly and image of Carl and I roughly making out flashes across my mind, He pulls away from my lips and trails down my neck, biting and sucking hard. I am tugging on his hair, pulling his lips back to mine with feverish desire, his hand cups my breast through the thin fabric of my tank top and I nearly moan. I blink hard and swallow, and just like that the image is gone and I am left to feel the heat and moisture radiating from between my thighs.

_What am I thinking? _

I close my eyes, trying to calm my racing heartbeat and willing the blush across my cheeks to disappear. I feel Carl looking at me and then I literally feel him.

He is trailing the scab on my neck again and my eyes snap open.

"You said I am just pretending…" He trails, "but we both know who is stronger between the two of us, you said I got lucky. I think _you're_ the one pretending Sam." Carl whispers, silently daring me to fight him, to show him he's wrong. I accept the challenge, and in the blink of an eye I am on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning his arms above his head. He is smirking up at me, his beautiful eyes gleaming up at me in amusement as if I am the punch line of some cheesy joke.

_He doesn't see me as a threat. He doesn't take me seriously_. I pull out my knife and hold it to his throat, pressing with such force that beads of blood begin to ooze out from beneath the blade.

"Don't underestimate me." I growl.

His eyes turn darker and finally he reacts, and I realize then that he has let me pin him to the ground and I really am the one pretending to be in charge because his strength truly does overpower mine and I am the one who has underestimated him.

He rolls us over easily, ripping the knife from my hand and tossing it across the room. I struggle underneath him for a few moments before realizing I am trapped. I stop my efforts and allow him to over power me like the man he truly is, for he is no longer some kid, I suddenly have respect for him whether I like it or not.

"_You win_." I breathe.

"Not yet." He replies coldly, his eyes filled with revenge as he lowers his lips to mine.

_He's so warm._

I feel like my entire body is engulfed in flames. I can't deny I am attracted to my enemy.

I whimper against my will when his tongue glides over my bottom lip and I eagerly let him in, our tongues fight each other for dominance until finally I give in and allow him to explore my mouth willingly.

_He tastes so good._

I find myself wanting more, craving more, needing more.

My head feels lights as I remind myself to breathe once his lips leave mine.

I feel him against my pulse point, sucking and licking his mouth is so hot against my skin.

Before I can stop myself I am letting out a soft moan, as I arch my body into his, pressing my heat against him.

Suddenly his body is lifted off of mine and I am cold and frozen to the floor looking up at him towering above me a cruel smile plastered on his lips.

"_Now_,_ I win_." He states, before leaving me completely alone and frustrated.

_This was just some game to him._

_It meant nothing._

I sit up and wipe the trace of saliva off of my neck, and then I wipe the taste of Carl from my swollen lips and I am left feeling insanely pissed off and hating the boy more than I ever thought possible.

_That bastard_. I mentally curse him before fetching my knife and going back to bed.


	3. Chapter 3: Gaining trust

**Author's Note: I am getting a lot of reviews concerning 'dark' Carl. I know his character seems very out of character, but we will begin to see the 'old' Carl eventually as he warms up to Sam and they grow closer. They both have some mental issues but together they help one another find some normalcy and happiness in this very crazy universe they've both been thrown into.**

**Another point I want to throw out there is that the remaining survivors are very paranoid, including Carl. Sam betrayed Carl's trust just like he assumed she would and therefore the 'old' part of him sees her as a threat to his remaining family (his dad and little sister), friends (his best friend and crush Beth), and the group as a whole. He is frustrated that everyone is taking a liking to Sam, especially Beth and Sam being 'friends'. Carl feels the people he loves are in danger when near Sam because in his mind she cannot be trusted.**

**Last, try to imagine the type of person you would become (mentally) if you saw your mother die like Carl did, then had to be the one to shoot her brains out. That alone is a very traumatic experience (that episode had me crying my eyes out and was one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen on television) that experience alone would really mess with anyone's mind, look at Rick, he went nuts after that. Carl was forced to bottle up the traumatic event, and step up and be the 'man of the house' while Rick went crazy and broke down. Carl has never been able to properly deal with the memories of that day, this attributes to his 'dark' character, but remember he is only 'dark' Carl to Sam, who is dangerous to the group, he still remains kind to the rest of his peers we just don't get to see how he interacts with everyone when Sam isn't around because the story is told through his enemies point of view, not his.**

**Also the fact he has been shooting walkers brains out since he was a kid has messed with his humanity (that's why he so easily inflicted pain on Sam during the interrogation and felt no remorse) and Shane (a father figure and friend to him) turned into a walker and Carl was forced to shoot his brains out as well. All of this would make anyone a little unhinged mentally, therefore as I was watching all of season 2 all I could think of was "What kind of man would Carl grow up to be after experiencing all of these horrible things as a kid?" The point of this story was to explore his character from a psychological point of view, and try to figure out realistically what kind of impact these events would have on this innocent child as he matures into adult hood and is given a power status (the groups leader when his father is not around) That is where his arrogance comes from, he knows he is a badass teenager, he knows he's strong and a vital asset to the group and everyone respects. The power goes to his head a bit.**

**So I hope I was able to clear some things up for you guys and hopefully his character doesn't seem as unrealistic as before.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

My feet slap against the cement floor, the sound of my boots echoing down the corridor. The groaning and shuffling of walkers can be heard both in front of me and behind me. I was running with Daryl a few seconds ago but a pack of walkers forced us to lose track of one another and now I am alone. It doesn't matter, I work best alone anyway.

_I've been on my own for three years why would things change now? Just because I'm part of a group_?

I see the shadows of the living dead stalking towards me, they are around the next corner and I'm prepared for a fight.

My adrenaline kicks into full gear as I swipe my machete through the thick, humid air with an audible _swoosh_. The walkers' head cut clean from his shoulders. I decapitate four more until I am alone once more.

I round the next bend when I collide with a solid figure. I fall backwards hard, earning a sizable bruise on my tailbone I'm sure. I glance up with wild eyes at Carl who looks just as surprised as me. I'm instantly back on my feet. We look at each other once more before he turns away, running in the direction he was previously headed before I got in his way.

I follow behind him, more walkers appear and Carl is working on taking them out alone, unaware of my presence behind him. He's distracted and making the fight with his undead opponents look effortless I almost stop and admire his skill but he doesn't see the Judith huddled in the corner, two walkers looming over her tiny body. She let's out a shriek and covers her eyes finally gaining her older brothers attention as he sinks his knife into a nearby walkers forehead. I am closest to her, so I react rescuing the toddler just in time, knocking both walkers off balance desperate to get these bastards away from this innocent child.

I scoop Judith up in my arms and turn around only to be face with even more zombies. I attempt to defend us using only one hand but the task is proving difficult. Carl steps in and helps me killing off the last two, he looks into my eyes, then down at his baby sister in my arms as if deciding whether or not to take her from me.

"Come on!" He shouts, deciding he is more useful with two from hands and it makes more sense for me to hold onto Judith. We back track through endless cement corridors and I feel a sense of doom approaching as if we are destined to be lost forever but Carl seems to know the prison by heart and navigates the three of us back to safety just as I begin to lose hope.

Carol and Beth are the only two left behind to greet us, all of the others are still out searching for the missing baby. Carol takes Judith from my hold and soothes the sobbing child. Beth wraps her arms around Carl and I am left unnoticed as I slip into my cell and take a seat on my cot.

Looking down at my shaking hands, my heart feeling as if it is about to beat right out of my chest, I attempt to calm my nerves and catch my shaky breath.

After about 15 minutes, a figure appears in the doorway. I glance up from my intertwined, bloody fingers and find Carl extending to me a glass of water, an offer of peace.

I take it and sip, quenching my thirst and soothing my dry, cracked throat. I look back down to the floor, deep in my own thoughts.

"I didn't even know you were following me." Carl speaks first, sitting in a nearby chair diagonal from my bed. I don't meet his gaze, as I remain silent, still processing what exactly just happened out there.

_Walkers almost ate his sister._

_I saved her life…_

_Then Carl saved our lives. _

"I didn't even see her until it was too late, but then... there you were." Carl continues quietly, as if he is still trying to process everything out loud.

"Thank you." I finally speak up.

Our eyes meet.

"I know you didn't do it for me, but still, you saved my life too… so thanks…" I trail, looking away again.

"You're thanking me?" Carl asks his tone bewildered. He stands up and approaches my bed. He leans down in front of me so that our gaze is even. Now that he is closer I am able to take in his appearance, his eyes are still dilated in fear, his face is flushed and sweaty, dirt and dried walker blood cakes his face, neck, and arms. I wonder if I look just as bad. If so we look like we've just been through hell and back.

"I should be the one thanking _you_, you saved my sister… thank you." Carl states, his voice holding a mix of emotions, sincerity and gratitude being two of them. This is the first time he has talked to me so softly, so kindly. I wonder how his personality could shift so suddenly. Beth was right, I really do not know the boy at all.

"Don't thank me, I didn't think about it, I just did it." I reply with a shrug.

"Regardless whether you intentionally thought that your actions would save her life, you still saved her life and for that all I can say is thank you Sam." Carl responds his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I simply nod, accepting his gratitude. He stands up and leaves, taking my empty glass with him and straightening the crooked sheriffs hat on his head.

One by one the others return, luckily none of them were bitten or killed. Carl must have told his father about my actions because an hour after he gets back he corners me alone.

He thanks me, his own eyes glistening with tears and his voice cracking slightly. He is holding his daughter in his arms and she looks the best out of all of us, unharmed and clean. Her heavy eyelids keep drifting closed and she is at peace in her daddy's arms the nightmares a distant memory now. I can't help but smile down at her tenderly.

"I owe you, I haven't figured out how to make it up to you, but I owe you." Rick is currently stating. "It's nothing really, I'm no hero." I explain. Ricks shakes his head, "No." He demands and his voice is final. "I owe you."

I nod and accept his offer, he finally decides the best he can do is allow me access to the group's firearms and ammo pile, a privilege previously denied to me. He also offers me a pick of any gun I want but I decline, saying access to the guns when needed is good enough. I sleep peacefully that night, feeling a little less alone and more like I belong here.


	4. Chapter 4: Mortified

Looking below at the crimson water swirling down the drain, I finally feel my head starting to clear. My adrenaline rush died down hours ago, my pulse returning to normal, but my thoughts remained hazy the rest of the day. I wasn't even aware of just how filthy I had become in the process of searching for Judith until Maggie suggested I go shower off like everyone else had.

So here I am, arms folded over my chest for comfort and warmth as I allow the cool water to engulf my body. I am so mentally consumed I don't hear the locker room door being opened. I also fail to notice that I am no longer alone. Carl glances over at me, my naked body shielded by a half wall that comes just above my chest. These walls divide the four shower stalls that line the length of the room.

My head is still so foggy I don't even register the fact that he is now shedding his t-shirt and hat. Finally, as he is unbuttoning his jeans I speak out in protest. "What are you doing?"

"It's almost night fall, I need to wash off before it gets dark… you know so I can see." Carl explains awkwardly, frozen half naked under my gaze.

"Could you not stare at me?" He adds after I fail to give him some privacy. I feel my face heat up in a blush as I mutter something like a 'sorry' and turn myself completely away.

I duck down my head in order to effectively rinse the crap out of my long, layered locks. After I hear him turn on the showerhead two stalls away from my own I feel like it's safe to look back in his general direction. All I can see is his head and the top of his bare shoulders his eyes are squinted shut as he rinses his face clear of soap.

"Hey, can I borrow that?" I call out over the running water. His crystal blue eyes open up and he nods, throwing the bar of soap towards me. I catch it but it slips out of my grip and falls to the tiled floor in between my feet breaking in half.

I pick it up and rewash my body and hair now that I am able to actually remove the blood from my pale skin. After ten more minutes I am finished and shivering as the water temperature managed to turn from cool to freezing cold by the end of my shower. Shutting off the water I grab a nearby towel and dry myself off before wrapping it around myself for warmth.

I make my way back to my clothes and decide to wash them off in the sink. I feel goose bumps forming on my skin suddenly and I turn around to see Carl now fully dressed. Water drips off his bangs and onto the neck of his t-shirt, I notice his eyes trailing my exposed skin. I've just given him full view off my legs and lower thighs along with a decent amount of cleavage. Hiking up my towel modestly I demand to know what he needs.

"My soap, you never gave it back." He replies, his voice slightly annoyed and matter of fact.

"Oh, I left half of it in the shower and I'm using this half to clean my clothes." I quickly explain.

"Don't worry about it, you can keep that half." He replies, turning away to fetch his other half of the rare luxury. I turn back to my work, scrubbing at a particularly difficult stain on the knee of my jeans.

Soon the locker room grows dark, the fading sun sinking quickly. I dress in a dry pair of clothes and hurry to leave before I lose all sunlight and end up lost. As I exit the locker room I bump into Carl who is leaning lazily against the wall playing with his gun.

"I figured you might get lost." He offers an explanation and I nod.

"Yeah, I'm kind of horrible with directions. Thanks for waiting for me." I reply awkwardly.

I am not use to Carl and I interacting like civil human beings, we've been at each other's throats for the past two weeks. I found it less awkward talking to the boy when we hated each other, now that I've earned his trust I have no idea how to act when he's around. I find his kindness unnerving and unfamiliar.

We walk back to the cellblock in a thick, heavy silence.

I am thankful once my cot is in view just so that I can escape his company.

"Good night." He offers and before I can respond he is gone.

* * *

"I don't trust him." I frown, picking at my fingernails.

Beth is looking at me with confusion written all over her face.

The two of us are sitting alone in the watchtower trying to pass time.

"Why not?" She asks

"He's being too nice… it's weird." I explain.

Beth lets out a small laugh.

"You should be happy, I know I am. I've wanted you two to get along for weeks your constant bickering was starting to become intolerable." Beth confesses lightly.

"I've known Carl to be a asshole since I've arrived here, now all of a sudden I'm just supposed to accept that he has changed and we are no longer enemies?" I ask incredulously.

Beth shrugs, "Carl's always been a sweetheart-"

I nearly choke on her words.

"He's really nice!" Beth adds, "He just saw you as a threat to the group, now that you've showed everyone you can be trusted he's treating you how he treats everyone else."

"I don't buy it. He's being fake and he's planning something. He isn't a nice guy, he's a jerk and people never change." I argue.

Beth frowns, "He's being sincere, I think he really likes you now, why can't you two just be friends?" she sighs and I can already tell she is a mediator, one of those types who cannot stand to see conflict.

"He kissed me." I blurt out and Beth is now the one to choke.

"_What!?_"

"Last week…but he did it to be a prick, to toy with my emotions. To get even." I explain my voice taking on a tone of disgust.

"Carl isn't the type of kid to do something like that, he's so innocent-"

"He's far from innocent and he's far from being some kid, he's mature and capable of manipulation, I would know I was his latest victim." I state coldly, the memory not settling well with me.

"There's no way, he's only kissed me twice and it was very chaste. He wouldn't sexually manipulate anyone, he just doesn't have it in him." Beth argues passionately.

"Maybe _you're_ the one who doesn't really know him." I frown leaving the girl alone to process the information I've given her.

* * *

I can't sleep, the humid air constricting me like a python, I can hardly breathe.

_How can anyone sleep in this heat_? I wonder, ripping the sheets off of my clammy skin and slipping on my boots.

I decide on some fresh air, maybe even spending the night in the watchtower.

Being sure that I am not being followed this time I make the silent journey alone.

I am nearly outside when I hear heavy breathing accompanied by a soft groan.

I stop in my tracks, listening closely. For a brief moment I decide I must have imagined the noise and I am about to continue when I hear it again, the breathing, almost panting.

I follow the barely audiable sound around a few corners and I stop at the source, my jaw falling open in surprise as a heavy blush forces its way from my chest, up my neck and across my cheeks.

His head is thrown back against the wall, eyes shut and lips parted, his hand working furiously at the member between his legs. Sprawled out in utter bliss, a bead of sweat trailing down his cheek. The scene shifts quickly as Carl's eyes snap open and he bolts from the floor into a standing position shoving his hardness back into his jeans before I am able to get full view of him.

I force my mouth shut and blink, praying I am dreaming and this isn't really happening.

_I just walked in on Carl masturbating._

I feel myself blushing harder in humiliation. I can't even imagine how embarrassed he feels right now.

I know I should say something, anything, but no words escape my lips and I am left utterly speechless.

Horrified by the entire situation and it's awkwardness I simply turn around and walk briskly as far away from the scene as possible.

To my relief Carl does not follow me as I make my way back to bed, forgetting entirely why I had left the safety of my cot in the first place.

_If our relationship was awkward before that, I have no idea what it is now_. I mentally curse collapsing on my bed.


	5. Chapter 5: The lying game

It's been exactly 7 days since 'the incident' and Carl and I have been avoiding each other like the plague. Even Beth took notice to the way we have been acting and questioned me about it. I managed to come up with a convincing 'I have no idea, maybe he's just busy.' That seemed to satisfy her for now.

I wish I could have access to a time turner and change the events of last week.

_I should have just tolerated the stifling Georgia heat_.

_I should have ignored the noises_.

In this case I wish curiosity killed the cat, because I would rather die than have to ever talk to Carl about what I saw.

I can feel the tension rising, it's only a matter of time before he corners me and brings up the subject we've both been avoiding.

I had no idea that moment would be now.

"Sam."

_I think my heart just stopped beating. _

I feign ignorance to my name being called.

Maggie side glances at me, arching a questioning brow as I continue drying a plate.

"Sam."

_You can't ignore him forever. _

_You have to face this._

_Be brave._

I look up and meet his intense gaze.

_And I want to die. _

"Yeah?" I croak, my voice suddenly dry as if I haven't spoken in ages.

"We need to talk." Carl replies firmly.

"I'm kind of busy helping Maggie with dishes." I quickly offer up an excuse.

Maggie smiles at me, "It's no big deal I can handle the rest on my own."

_I could kill her._

"Ok." I frown, setting down my towel and following Carl out the kitchen.

Once we are out of earshot I am sure he plans of murdering, at this point that would be a lot simpler than actually having to talk about it.

I can't even imagine how much courage it took him to actually face me.

We enter a boiler room and Carl shuts the door behind us, before checking the space for walkers.

The room is clear.

"Look about last week-" Carl begins, a blush already appearing on his face.

He's looking down at his shoes his courage faltering now that he actually has me alone.

I find myself coming to his rescue against my will. The words blurt out like projectile vomit.

"It's not a big deal, you're male you have needs…" I trail, feeling horribly awkward.

_I just want to get this conversation over with. _

My comment seems to add to his embarrassment, as his face grows redder in hue.

"_Um_, right. Well…" He stammers.

"Can we both just forget it ever happened?" I offer with a sigh.

"Just don't tell Beth, or anyone, ever." Carl frowns fidgeting with his sheriff's hat.

"Right." I agree with a nod. "It never happened."

"Ok…good." Carl lets out a breath of relief. I am elated that this conversation is finally over and turn to leave until Carl continues.

"You didn't _er_, see anything?" He asks

"_No!_ I swear." I blurt out with a blush.

"Good…" A weight seems to have been lifted from the boy's shoulders.

"I'm sorry." He offers and I suddenly feel really bad for him, forgetting that we are enemies I shouldn't care if he's mortified. In fact I should be reveling in his discomfort but instead I pity him.

"Don't be, everyone does it. It's totally natural." I blurt out, attempting to ease his painful embarrassment.

"_Do you do it_?" Carl asks then clamps his mouth shut hard as if he hadn't meant to ask me that personal question.

"_Yeah, totally_." I shrug trying to act casual, trying to ease the tension but instead this conversation is shifting into a whole new level of awkwardness.

_We just keep digging our graves deeper and deeper._

Carl raises a brow and smirks.

"_Feel better_?" I ask with a slight glare.

"_Yeah, I do_." Carl replies his tone thoughtful. "Now I have dirt on you, we're even." He smirks.

_Fine, if he wants to play this game I'll play._

"_True_, unless I was lying… unless I really did see your dick and I tell Beth how _unimpressive_ it is." I smirk at the brief look of horror that flashes across his face but it's gone in an instant and he's stalking closer.

I find myself moving backwards on instinct until he has me trapped, pressed against the cold metal door.

"You've just confirmed you didn't see anything." He whispers, leaning into my body and bringing his lips up to my ear lobe.

"How do you figure?" I shoot back.

"Because if you did, _you wouldn't be disappointed_." He breathes, and the room suddenly becomes ten degrees hotter.

He pulls away, gently easing me aside. He exits the boiler room leaving me alone to process his words.

Mental images of Carl naked flash across my imagination.

Suddenly I want to know if he's telling the truth, but I'll never know the answer.


	6. Chapter 6: Memories

Sometimes I wish I had a picture. Physical proof that they existed, for it's been so long I'm beginning to forget the little details that I use to love about them.

My father's salt and pepper mustache. They way the corners of his pale green eyes would crinkle each time he smiled.

His cheesy jokes, that may have seemed lame at the time, as I forced a fake laugh for his feelings sake but now I would give anything to hear one of those jokes again.

My mother, such a strong beautiful woman, the type of beauty that radiates from the kindness and purity of ones own heart.

I seemed like the Grinch compared to my mom, she'd always remind me what a good person I was deep down and how beautiful my soul was, a soul similar to her own in nature but I never believed her words. I would roll my eyes and brush off her sincere compliments, compliments I now cherish.

When I think of her I realize she knew me better than anyone else and I didn't even notice back then.

She was able to see the real me, the me even I couldn't see as I looked in the mirror and saw my cold, serious, face frowning back at me.

I use to think I was heartless and selfish, especially in my early teens when I was particularly rebellious and troubled but she saw otherwise, she saw a misunderstood girl.

Another person who saw the true me past my hard, rigid exterior was my little sister. Our relationship was most interesting of all, she couldn't speak and she couldn't walk but yet she was the happiest girl I've ever met.

She saw something in me, as I was one of the only ones able to get her to laugh and grin when she was upset and I hardly even tried.

Maybe she was so humored by me because of the irony that I could walk and I could talk but I chose to barricade my depressed youthful self in my room and remain shy and reserved in front of my peers.

Maybe she was laughing at me, she probably wanted to shout at me to smile for once, to realize how great my life truly was, to be grateful!

I understand her message now, several years too late but I suppose it's better to be late than to never arrive at all.

Thoughts of my own family are triggered through Beth, Maggie and their father. How they've managed to stay together through all this shit really makes me believe in the possibility of miracles.

Even Carl, Judith and Rick are fortunate to still have each other.

The rest of us are not so lucky.

I've learned Daryl has a brother who may or may not still be alive.

I have no clue what happened to Glenn's family, same with Carol.

Something tells me Carol had a child at some point, whether she lost that child to walkers or before that I have no idea.

The way she interacts with Judith, the tender, motherly look in her eyes melts my heart. Carol reminds me most of my mother.

For someone who still has a family, I don't understand why Carl is the way he is.

It's frustrating and insulting to the rest of us who don't have anyone left to see how ungrateful he is.

This makes me hate him more. He's blind to what's right in front of him and I envy him. It's unfair that he prances around here like his life is so hard and everyone pities him. He has them fooled.

I grab a worn archery set, a simple bow and a sheath filled with arrows and make my way to the forest surrounding the prison.

Today's not a good day.

I need to take my mind off the memories of my family.

I need to engage in something destructive.

Glenn takes notice as I open the fence.

He calls down to me from his vantage point in the watchtower but I ignore him and continue on with purpose into the unknown.

At first my target is a tree.

I miss horribly, my final arrow finally piercing the bark a foot lower that I had originally aimed for.

Not terribly bad considering I've only done this once in my 7th grade gym class at age 13.

I was below average at it back then too, never exceedingly athletic.

Determined to practice and improve my skill I spend the next few hours shooting arrow after arrow until my fingers begin to bleed from the friction.

I ignore the mild stinging sensation, refusing to give up now, not until I get a perfect shot.

Imagining my target is Carl I pull back and release.

That's the closest I've come to a bulls eye all afternoon. A goofy grin spreads across my lips as I fetch the arrow.

Suddenly a twig snaps behind me and I turn to see a walker, groaning and shuffling towards me. I hurry up and line up my arrow, pulling back on the bow and closing my left eye in order to improve my aim.

_Finally my chance to practice on a real target_ _I've never been so happy to see a walker! _

I release.

The arrow arches through the air missing my target completely, zooming just above his right shoulder. I load another arrow and try again.

I miss.

The walker is too close for me to load up again, his fingertips reach out and brush my skin just as I shove the head of an arrow clean through his eye socket.

He falls to the ground and I retrieve the bloody arrow from his head with a wince of disgust.

"You have shit aim." Comes a male voice with a redneck drawl. Collecting my things I glance up to see Daryl, crossbow slung over his shoulder and Carl who's trailing a few feet behind him.

"Yeah, I really suck at this." I openly agree with a frown.

"_Are you insane_?" Carl speaks up, his voice accusing as if I'm some child who's bolted across the street without looking both ways.

"You just disappear into the woods without telling anyone where you are going?" Carl scolds. "You could have got bit."

I narrow my gaze, "I can take care of myself, I wasn't aware I needed a babysitter." I bark back.

"I'll give you some shooting lessons tomorrow, you're not going to get any better without a real teacher." Daryl interrupts our bickering.

"That would be greatly appreciated." I smile, genuinely please by his offer, the man's a beast with that crossbow I could really learn a thing or two from him.

"Suppers ready." Daryl adds stepping out of the forest with Carl and I at his heel.

"Next time tell me when you leave the prison so we don't have to endanger two _valuable_ lives looking for you." Carl growls, just loud enough for only me to hear.

"I'll tell Rick or Daryl, since they are the ones in charge." I reply coolly.

"My dads too busy to babysit you."

"Like I said I don't need a babysitter, but if it's an issue I'll let an _adult _know my whereabouts next time." I hiss, quickly growing annoyed at this kid telling me what to do.

* * *

"You know, I've just realized I never learned your last name and we've been friends for a month now." Beth chuckles, taking a bite of green beans.

"Why? Do you plan on looking me up on Facebook?" I tease, gaining myself a light punch in the arm.

"It's just something friends should know about each other…" Beth explains.

"Pierce, Samantha Lorraine Pierce, want my blood type too? It's O." I grumble.

Beth ignores my sarcasm and instead smiles, whispering my full name out loud under her breath, getting a feel for the way it sounds.

"That's a pretty name." She finally decides.

"Well let's hear yours." I demand.

"Beth Rose Greene." She states proudly.

"Lovely." I reply, cutting into the mystery meat on my plate.

I silently wish the girl would chitchat with Carl instead. Her constant small talk is my newest pet peeve.

It's not that I dislike the girl, it's just our conversations seem so pointless. It's as if Beth Greene's mind is still back on her farm, on her _old_ life.

Her optimism aggravates me, I just want to grab her and scream '_The world has ended, none of this matters_!'

I quickly eat my dinner and leave, thankful it's Beth's turn to help her sister do the dishes giving me some time to be alone with my thoughts.

* * *

I migrate to the solitude of the watchtower, my personal favorite spot in the entire prison.

I suppose it's the height I adore, being away from the ground and seemingly lost in the clouds.

It's the one place I feel truly alone.

It's my private bungalow.

I curl up on top of my blanket, the summer night breeze tickling at my exposed skin. I've stripped my jeans and am sleeping in my underwear and tank top. The Georgia heat is too sweltering to be conservative. I hadn't planned on company, so when I fluff my pillow and close my eyes only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching I am not happy.

"_Really_? You're following me? I told you I don't need a babysitter." I growl, sitting myself up and glaring at the figure in the doorframe.

"I had no idea you were up here, I've been sleeping here for weeks." Carl replies, and I can tell by the hint of surprise in his tone that he is indeed telling the truth.

"Why are you even here?" He adds curiously, throwing his own pillow and blanket down on the ground a few feet to my left.

"The same reason you are, it's too hot inside. Now leave, I was here first." I demand.

Carl lets out a soft chuckle, "_Correction,_ I was here first, I've been here for years so if you want to get technical, _you're_ the one who should leave."

I frown in annoyance.

"_Fine_, sleep here, but I'm not leaving so I guess we will have to share the space." I retort, turning my body away from his and forcing my eyes to shut, begging sleep to take hold of me now.

Carl does not respond.

I listen as he shuffles across the room. I can hear as he unzips his jeans, the sound of the heavy fabric hitting the floor. I can hear his pillow being fluffed, before finally he settles down and the room is filled with the faint sound of grasshoppers chirping from the ground below us.

I can't sleep with his presence near me. I'm not comfortable with him being here, interrupting my solitude.

"_Can you please go_?" I sigh, my tone desperate and pleading.

I sit up on one arm and glance over at Carl's still form. For a moment I think he's asleep but then he rolls over and faces me, an irritated look on his features.

"Shut up and go to bed." He grumbles.

"That's the problem, I can't at least not with you here." I sigh.

"Well pretend I'm not here." He reasons.

"_Carl! Just go, I got here first, this isn't fair_." I pout.

"I'm not leaving so I suggest you either go back to your cell or deal with your issue and go to sleep." His voice is final.

A long moment passes in silence between us.

I rest on my back and stare out at the stars, trying to focus on the vast universe above me instead of on the boy a few feet away from me.

Finally I feel my eyes grow heavy and I allow my lids to flutter shut.


	7. Chapter 7: Body heat

"You're not a half bad shot for a Yankee."

I grin over at Daryl collecting my archery gear. Together we begin to back track towards the prison. Suddenly Daryl stops walking, holding out a hand signaling me to stay still. I raise a brow in confusion, I hadn't heard anything but I've learned not to doubt my teacher's natural instinct, the man was practically born a hunter. I glance around, making sure to remain quiet. Daryl doesn't drop his hand from out in front of me as he mutely swings down his bow from his shoulder and aims it to our left.

I spot a patch of brown fur moving through the trees.

_A deer. _

_Otherwise known as breakfast, lunch and dinner. _

My mouth literally waters at the site.

Daryl has his aim steady, about to hit his target when the groaning of a walker is heard nearby.

The deer is startled and leaps through the air but Daryl has already predicted the next move of his prey. An arrow pierces the deer and the beautiful creature falls down to the ground. I move closer, pulling back on the bowstring and aiming at the walker's head as soon as it comes into view.

I miss.

"_Damn it_!" I curse, frustrated by my lack of talent.

I'm determined though, as I load another arrow the zombie is now aware of my presence and is temporarily distracted from the deer meat.

"Get the deer, I got him." I call out to my teacher.

I don't have to tell Daryl twice, as he runs over to protect the deer meat from being contaminated by walkers, food is our main priority.

"There's more than one of these bastards, they must have been following the buck." Daryl shouts, and I can hear the impact of one of his arrows colliding with a human skull, a dull _clunking_ noise.

I focus and breathe, steadying my aim on another approaching walker.

I meet my target, my arrow going straight through his forehead.

I feel my heart leaping in a mix of excitement, adrenaline, and fear.

I'm only half confident I can do that again and I don't have time to miss my target as three walkers surround me.

I lay down my bow and arrows and whip out my machete, lunging towards the nearest corpse.

One by one I take out the walkers with ease.

Until I notice at least 15 more emerging from the trees around us.

"Shit, Daryl we got to get out of here!" I begin to panic.

He scoops up the deer and I grab his crossbow along with my gear as we make a run for the prison.

"Walkers! Hurry up and let us in!" I'm screaming as soon as the fence in site.

Daryl is slowing us down, the weight of the buck taking its toll on him. I am about to attack a walker that's getting too close for comfort when a gunshot rings through the air barely missing my face.

I whip my head back towards the prison to find Carl and Rick rushing towards us.

Rick takes a moment to shoot another walker before taking the deer from Daryl's shoulders. Carl pushes for me to keep going towards the fence as he aims his pistol at another zombie.

* * *

"What happened?"

"Were you bitten?"

I drop the items I had been carrying, and turn back to face Carl, Rick and Daryl following in closely behind me.

"What happened?" Carol asks once more, immediately pulling towards Daryl I don't miss the look of concern etched on her features.

Daryl begins to explain everything, his voice calm apart from being out of breath.

Carl pulls me away from the others, an action that goes unnoticed.

I allow him to lead me into the locker room.

"You're covered in blood." He states, examining my appearance.

I look down my torso to confirm his accusation, he is correct.

_How didn't I notice my clothes are soaked in walker guts?_ I faintly wonder, my heart still pounding in my ears from the adrenaline rush.

"Were you bitten or scratched?" He demands, hand coming to rest on the pistol at his waist.

"I don't think so, no." I reply, but I must not sound convincing because Carl is now ordering me to strip off my clothes.

Not bothering to protest I obey, my thoughts racing.

_If you didn't notice the blood, would you notice if you were bit or scratched? _

"Am I infected?" I ask nervously as I kick off the leg of my jeans.

I am too concerned about my condition to feel vulnerable and exposed under Carl's critical gaze he's eyeing every single inch of my body, a look of concern glimmering behind his icy eyes.

I shiver, the blood cool against my skin, I hug my chest in an attempt to generate some body heat.

"I can't tell, you're too dirty." Carl finally confirms.

"I know you're in shock right now but you need to wash off so I can check you." Carl adds, turning on a nearby shower and leaving momentarily to fetch me a towel.

I move towards the water on instinct, standing beneath it and allowing it to spray down my body. I'm too out of it to notice I forgot to remove my bra and underwear.

Carl returns and frowns at me, casting me a look of pity, I must look pathetic.

I'm shivering again only more violently now under the piercing cold water.

"Here's soap." He hands me a bar and I grip it in my hand, staring down at it. I feel myself shivering my mind doesn't seem to be functioning correctly.

All I can hear is the echo of a gunshot, the site of my knife lodging into the walker's brain, bloody splattering everywhere like paint.

I hear Carl sigh in irritation grabbing my arm and snatching the bar of soap from my fingers. I stare ahead at the tiled wall counting each tile as I feel him scrubbing my arm clean of dirt and blood.

_One, two, three, four…_

Neither one of us speaks as Carl continues to scrub my body, first the arms, then legs, as I recall holding out my foot for him to clean my knee. He cleans my back and then hesitates at my chest and stomach before cleaning above and below my bra. He's even considerate enough to wash my hair and face as I remember this because of the slight burn of soap in my eyes as I failed to close my eyes shut tight enough.

"Take off your underwear so I can wash all of your clothes." Carl instructs, shutting off the faucet and turning to look away. I do as I am told in silence, trying to will my mind to think clearly. I need to focus on something, so I choose to focus my full attention on Carl.

I take in each detail, from counting the freckles on his face, to the way his hair curls slightly at the ends brushing against his neck. I wrap the towel around my naked body, ignoring how cold I am and focusing on every inch and detail of Carl instead.

"Dry off, I'll go get you some clothes. I'll be right back." Carl is speaking again but I'm only paying half attention, instead I am looking directly into his irises, noticing for the first time the different levels of blue.

_His eyes remind me of the ocean._

_I love the ocean…_

I am drying my body off, thinking about how beautiful those eyes were. If only my own eyes were that gorgeous.

I am now thinking about my own eyes as I move towards the mirror perched above the sink. It's cracked in the bottom left corner. I gaze into my eyes, noticing how big my pupils are I can barely make out the ring of hazel around them.

"Holy shit!"

I turn to look at Carl, interrupted from my thoughts. His hand is clamped over his eyes and his free arm is extending to me a bundle of dry, clean clothes.

I look down at the towel on the floor, my towel I realize. Carl has just seen me fully naked. I blush taking the clothes and getting dressed finally my mind seems to be working properly, I am suddenly more aware of my surroundings and emotions. Right now I am horribly embarrassed.

"Sorry." I mutter, slipping a t-shirt over my head I realize it is not my own. It's navy blue and slightly baggy.

"I couldn't find a shirt in your bag." Carl explains once I am no longer shamelessly exposed.

"Is this yours?" I wonder out loud, finding it hard to imagine Carl loaning me anything.

"Yeah, you can give it back tomorrow." He begins washing my clothes in the sink.

I sit on the bench and watch him intently.

"Am I infected?" I finally ask, remembering why I am here in the first place.

"I would have shot you by now if you were." He answers, his voice void of emotion.

I feel relieved as I look down at my clean arms.

"Thank you, I don't know what was wrong with me…" I frown, I feel so weak.

Carl glances at me, my eyes catching his through the refection of the mirror.

"You were in shock." He answers calmly, "Do you feel better now?" his voice is surprisingly gentle.

"Yeah, still a little hazy, but better." I nod looking down at my fingers I begin to pick out the remaining dirt from beneath my nails, a nervous habit of mine.

"You should get some sleep, it'll help take the edge off." Carl suggests.

"Are we having another sleep over in the watchtower?" I ask, a small smile forming on my lips.

I meet his reflection in the mirror once more. His expression is unreadable.

"I'll let you have it tonight." He replies.

He's being considerate and kind I realize.

My heart sinks at the idea of being alone. My face must have given away my inner turmoil because Carl adds, "Unless you want company?"

"If you want to, if not I will be fine alone." I lie.

He finishes cleaning my clothes in silence, finally once he is done he hangs them to dry and we head back to the cellblock to fetch our pillows and blankets. Everyone else is asleep and it is pitch black outside. I hadn't even realized how much time had passed until now, I distantly wish I had a watch, not that time matters anymore.

I lay down some blankets, a make shift bed. Carl does the same a few feet away.

We both lie down the windows open to allow in a soft breeze.

I shiver, whether out of cold of fear I don't really know.

I suddenly feel anxious and unbearably lonely. I sit up and look over at Carl's body, facing away from me. I grab my pillow and blanket and move over to him, searching for some form of comfort and warmth. His body radiates heat and now that I am closer I notice a glimmer of sweat on the back of his neck.

_What's wrong with me?_ I think as I shiver for the millionth time that night.

Not caring if he's awake or asleep I curl up into his back, immediately feeling the anxiety ease away as I focus on the sound of his soft breathing instead.

I let my eyelids drift shut and sleep overcomes me easily.

* * *

When I wake up I notice first how hot I am.

Next I realize how close Carl and I are, our bodies practically pinned together. I am spooning him, my arm draped across his chest.

I move, putting some distance between us and realize we are both sweating, the back of his t-shirt damp from my body being pressed against his.

If Carl noticed me clinging to him all night he doesn't say anything, as we both get up and fold up our blankets in silence.

"Sleep well?" He asks, a small smirk on his lips.

_So he did notice. _I mentally confirm.

"Decent." I respond with a casual shrug and he leaves it at that, no further questioning about last nights sleeping arrangements.


	8. Chapter 8: This changes everything

I haven't faced a hoard of corpses since back when things were really bad, back when mom died.

It hadn't really bothered me then, I suppose I was too busy running to stop and have a mental breakdown.

Life in the prison is too easy, there's not much to do and without the constant need to survive we're left with just our thoughts.

The mind is a dangerous tool, so easily it can be used against you and suddenly you become your own worst enemy.

That's how I feel most days, like I'm battling myself rather than the world around me.

"Are you alright Sam?" Beth asks for the second time as I jump at the noise of a dish being dropped.

"Sorry, slipped out of my hand." Maggie apologizes, sending me a sympathetic frown.

"I'm fine." I state, willing my heartbeat to calm back down.

"You don't look fine." Beth begins, but stops speaking when her elder sister casts her a stern look.

"You should go outside, the fresh air would do you some good. Want me to go get Carl?" Maggie suggests kindly.

"I don't want to go outside…but a walk sounds nice." I offer.

"Get out of here, we got this." Maggie smiles, gesturing to the pile of dirty dishes and silverware.

"I think daddy should talk to her, she's beginning to worry me." I hear Beth whisper as I'm leaving, she doesn't realize I've heard her and before I can ease drop some more I decide I don't want to hear what they have to say about me. I bitterly trudge back to the cellblock and immediately migrate towards the pile of weapons and ammunition in the centre of the room.

"Looking for anything special?"

I turn to see Carol approaching me, her face soft with pity.

_Is it really that obvious I'm losing it?_ I wonder angrily, growing sick of everyone giving me the same mock concerned look. Carl's the only one not treating me like a sick puppy, in fact I haven't seen much of him this week as I recall Beth telling me he's on watchtower duty.

"Just browsing." I reply trying very hard to hold back the irritation in my tone. I am suddenly reminded of those annoying sales people in the malls in those booths that typically sell jewelry, graphic t-shirts, hair products or purses and how pushy those people are. "_Do you have 5 minutes_?" They always start off with the same pitch. "_No I freaking don't, leave me alone, I'm broke."_

"You're bow and arrow sets in the corner." Carol points a thin finger, "If you were looking to practice some more, from what Daryl's told me your improving." Carol smiles warmly at me, stopping a foot or two away.

"I'm looking for this." I finally answer, pulling out an axe from the bottom of the pile. It's heavy in my arms but I can manage.

Carol eyes the weapon cautiously and for a second I feel as if she is going to scold me and demand to know what on earth I could possibly need an axe for, but if she is questioning my intentions or state of mind she doesn't voice her opinions to my relief.

"Be careful Samantha." Is all she says, patting my shoulder gently and looking deep within my eyes. I am suddenly reminded too much of my mother for comfort as the image of her doing the same exact thing, giving me that same exact look flashes into my memory.

Carol is suddenly my mom, and my mom is Carol and the image keeps shifting between the two and I am now blinking hard and losing my breath to the choked sob wanting to escape from the back of my throat.

I roughly dislodge my shoulder from Carol's grip and walk away deeper into the prison.

I don't even keep track of the number of turns, like I should and before I know it I am lost and in unfamiliar territory but I hardly give a shit as I lift up the axe and walk calmly towards a herd of shuffling walkers all lusting for my flesh, my blood, my brains.

"Not today bitch." I growl, chopping the nearest female corpses head clean off her shoulders and the blood sprays and I am drenched in crimson rain.

I don't know how long I am lost in the catacombs deep within the prison but I start to feel the effects of isolation. I step over a body, and then another backtracking from the way I came noticing the amount of damage I've caused.

_I killed all of them._

I feel nothing but disgust at the stench of rotting flesh mixed with the metallic smell of blood. The scent is everywhere and soon I am overwhelmed as I hunch over by a nearby wall and allow the contents of my near empty stomach to spill over onto the floor. I wipe my mouth with my shirt and carry on my way. A few more minutes pass, at least I think so, though I have no recollection of time especially when lost in windowless corridors hacking at zombie guts all day.

I begin to hear ringing in my ears and my head is throbbing. I grit my teeth in anger, clamping my hands over my ears and falling to my knees. I don't know how long I sit there, huddled in the corner eyes shut tight and ears ringing but soon I hear a gunshot and my eyes snap open.

I look up in horror to see my mother's lifeless body falling to the earth. The police officer that shot her doesn't even see me until I am a few feet away. His brown eyes look over at mine for a brief moment, it happens so fast he doesn't show an ounce of fear, he has no idea what's coming to him as I raise my gun to his temple and blow his brains out right there on my front lawn.

I blink hard and suddenly Carl is hunched down in front of me, gripping my shoulders and shaking me. His mouth is moving, I am looking directly at his lips but his words are muted by the ringing in my ears. _Oh how I wish the ringing would stop!_

"Stop it." I am muttering, closing my eyes. I am now being pulled up to my feet.

Finally I begin to register Carl's words, and the first thing I notice is his tone. He is panicking and Carl never panics.

"What's wrong?" I ask and Carl looks at me as if I am so far gone off the deep end there's no hope for me. He's looking at me like I am utterly insane.

"I don't think you should talk until we get back." He replies. Something is holding him back from questioning me.

* * *

I am sitting in a chair and Carl is handcuffing my wrists like my first day in the prison. I am laughing at the irony and Carl looks worried, borderline terrified.

"I can't do this." He whispers retreating from my cell.

A few moments pass and I can hear shuffling of footsteps approaching.

_Walkers, they're feeding me to walkers._

"What the hell is going on?" Rick demands entering my cell and haulting at the site of me.

"_Tell me you didn't_." He begins, stepping closer and gripping my shoulders with such force I know it will leave a bruise. I am grinning now, _like father like son_.

"_The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree_." I am muttering.

"Tell me you didn't eat a walker?" Rick continues searching my eyes for any sign that I am still here with them and not completely out of my mind.

This seems to snap me out of my stupor as I take in his accusation.

"_What? No, of course not. Why would I do that_?" I ask in bewilderment, looking between him and Carl, then Hershel, Glenn and Daryl all crowded in the doorway.

"**_Don't lie to me Sam!_**" Rick is shouting and shaking me. "**_You have walker blood all over your mouth, what the hell have you done_**?" He demands.

I rack my brain for an explanation, and then I am giggling again only this time at the fact that these people believe I am crazy enough to eat a dead corpse.

"I threw up." I finally manage, "I wiped off my mouth with my shirt."

Relief floods into the Sheriff's eyes as he lets go of me and turns back to face the other four men in the doorway.

"_Thank God_." He mutters, bringing his hand to clutch his temple. He is pacing in front of me and I am watching him with amusement.

_Why am I so amused?_

_Why can't I take any of this seriously?_

_God Sam you're losing it. _

"So what exactly were you doing all day? Were you attacked?" Rick finally speaks, stopping his pacing to glance over at me.

"**You should be thanking me Sheriff**!" I exclaim, "**I cleared out half the prison for you**."

Rick frowns, "I appreciate the effort but you are a young woman Sam, you shouldn't be off killing walkers without letting anyone know. It's too dangerous." Rick is scolding me.

There's a long pause and nobody is saying a word, the others looking between Rick and I until finally their leader speaks up once more.

"_Look, I don't know what you are going through, but you need to talk to someone. Any of us, we all care about you, you're one of our own now. You belong here_."

My eyes begin to water at Rick's kind words, the softness in his voice reminding me of my dads. _Oh how I miss my dad._

Rick wipes away a tear, as it falls down my cheek. I glance up at him.

"_We're going to keep an eye on you, I'm not keeping you handcuffed because I am mad at you I'm doing it for your own safety. Think about my words, I'm going to give you some time to settle down then we'll get you cleaned off and I want you to relax. If you need anything we will get it for you, we will take care of you_."

I nod, already feeling better thanks to his comforting words. I feel fine, exhausted but fine, like my old self again. The insanity is pushed to the back of my mind momentarily.

Hershel tells me he's going to prepare me some leftover dinner since I've missed supper. Daryl says in a few days we will pick back up with my archery lessons, although I seem to handle an axe better he comments lightly. Glenn tells me to take it easy. Its just Carl and I left and he's looking at me, his face unreadable because it's filled with so many levels of emotion.

"_Carl-_" I begin

"_Don't_." He interrupts me, leaving my cell without another word.

* * *

Beth and Maggie help me shower and wash my clothes for me. I insist if they remove the handcuffs that I will do it myself but they won't go against Rick's orders.

I spend a night in my bed in the cellblock for the first time in weeks, and I sleep horribly, half due to the handcuffs on my wrists and half due to the fact that Carl isn't here.

_When did he even become a comfort to me?_ I wonder faintly.

_When did we stop hating each other and start caring?_

I close my eyes with a sigh; I am startled from my thoughts by the low creaking of my door being opened. I sit up in my bed and squint my eyes in the dim moonlight, trying to decipher the figure.

_Who could be visiting this late at night?_

"Hello?" I ask softly and suddenly the shadow steps forward and cups my face in his hands and his warm lips are crashing against my own.

I close my eyes and relish the feeling of my heart beating hard for once out of lust instead of fear.

His lips shift against mine and he is about to pull away, probably regretting his brash sign of affection for this kiss changes everything and we both know it.

If my hands were free I would reach out for him and pull him closer, but I don't have access to my limbs so I do the next best thing, I deepen the kiss before he can let go.

Trailing my tongue along his bottom lip, he hesitates before giving into his emotions and kissing me back. This isn't like our first kiss, back then we were strangers, it was a twisted, cruel game, a show of dominance. This kiss is passionate and tender, as his tongue massages against my own and he runs his finger down my cheek and to the base of my hairline where he allows his hand to get lost, entangled in my long locks.

Finally we pull apart, both needing oxygen. I am looking directly into his eyes, we are so close, only centimeters apart.

The look on Carl's face is so intense yet so unreadable, I have no idea what's going through his mind.

"_Stay_." I whisper, my voice pleading.

This seems to calm any sense of doubt rising from within him.

I want him to know how I feel, I want him to know it's not a mistake and I would kiss him again and again and never regret any of it.

I want to tell him I miss him, I want him to know I need him for he's the only one who makes this world bearable.

"Don't go." Tears are falling freely now and I don't even know why all I know is if he leaves right now it will break me.

"I won't." He whispers, wiping away a stray tear and pressing his forehead to my own. I close my eyes and for the first time in days I can breath. I feel as if all the weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

I haven't felt this good in so long.

Gently he removes the handcuffs and places them in his pocket before climbing in behind me; we both lay down on the mattress. I feel the weight of his arm as it snakes itself around my waist, I can feel each breathe he takes as he exhales into the back of my neck. I intertwine my fingers with his. I want to make sure if he leaves I will wake up. I draw circles against his palm until I feel my eyelids grow heavy. I fall asleep just as I hear a soft snore coming from behind me.


	9. Chapter 9: Almost caught

"You can't hide forever."

"I don't want to be afraid."

"Then face it."

I bite my lip feeling the anxiety rising in my chest. I remember this feeling. It's been so long.

"If you force me to go out there I'm going to have a panic attack." I reply, clutching my temple and closing my eyes, willing myself to remain calm and focus on breathing.

Carl shrugs, "So you have a panic attack? Will it kill you?"

I look up between my fingers.

"No." I answer, my voice defeated.

"Then come on." Carl urges, grabbing my hand and leading me through the metal doors and down a small flight of steps. We are in the prison yard, the concrete area that used to be used as a basketball court.

"What if walkers come?" I begin to fret, scanning the area for zombies.

"Don't give me that, you plowed through them like it was nothing, walkers don't stand a chance against the two of us." Carl smiles and I find his grin to be contagious.

"Too bad we don't have a ball." I frown, examining the tattered hoop above us. Carl lets go of my hand and walks over to the grass. He bends down then reemerges from the weeds with a faded orange ball in hand. He throws it towards me and I catch it firmly.

"It doesn't have much air."

I attempt to dribble the ball and it falls lamely to the pavement where I pick it back up, pivoting I turn to shoot and the ball falls clean through the hoop with a soft _swoosh._

"Nice shot." Carl compliments, genuinely impressed.

"I've played since I can remember, my dad and I-" I stop, about to abandon the painful memory but I fight through it.

I take a deep breath and watch Carl take his shot. It hits off the backboard and falls gracefully in the hoop.

"My dad and I would play a lot in the summer, we would play around the world over and over, that was my favorite game. My friends and I usually played horse. My dad encouraged me to join the team in 4th grade. He use to tell me I would get a scholarship to college one day, I was that talented in his eyes." I explain, rambling slightly as I begin to lose myself in those happy memories.

Carl is smiling at me.

"You sound close." He comments.

I nod, "My dad was my best friend, my mom too but my dad and I, we hardly ever fought. He was too easy going to fight with anyone, he wouldn't hurt a fly plus he was horrible at arguing. He use to joke that I should be a lawyer, I was that good at holding up my own."

Carl passes me the ball and we take turns shooting around.

"Tell me more, about them, your parents." He asks after a few minutes of silent shooting.

"My dad was a construction worker. My mom was a stay at home mom, she took care of my sister full time." I offer up a piece of information before running towards the hoop for a layup.

"You had a sister?" Carl asks his tone surprised.

I nod, passing him the ball.

"She was handicapped, complications at birth. She passed away before the outbreak."

"What was her name?" Carl asks softly.

"Lilly." I smile to myself. "What about you? Tell me something about your old life." I suggest.

Carl frowns, looking away from my gaze and dropping the ball.

For a moment I don't think he is going to open up to me but then he speaks.

"My mom was beautiful, she had the prettiest smile, one of those smiles that made everything better. She really loved me. I was pretty mean to her though, she didn't deserve it."

"I think about it everyday, I feel so bad… I was such a horrible son…" He adds his voice cracking slightly.

"You can't think like that, you'll go crazy with guilt. Focus on the good memories." I offer a piece of personal wisdom.

"She made these awesome sugar cookies, every Christmas. I've never tasted anything comparable to her baking." Carl smiles slightly, letting out a low chuckle.

"You're making me hungry." I laugh, my mouth watering at the memory of cookies and sweets.

"Let's get lunch." Carl offers as we head back inside.

/

"It's great to see you both getting along so well."

Carl and I exchange a sly glance before I look over at Beth.

"Trust me, we can hardly stand each other." I fake a convincing glare in Carl's direction. He easily returns it.

Beth frowns, "Well I saw you two playing ball outside, that's a start." She reasons and Carl and I shrug in response.

I take a bite of stew, which consists of deer meat and noodles.

It fills my appetite.

* * *

Later that evening Carl decides to bring me with him on watchtower duty. His reasoning is to show me the ropes so that I can give him and Glenn a break from the boring task.

I am bored out of my mind, our conversation having stopped all together at least 30 minutes ago. It's too hot to speak. We're both miserable in the heat, even with all the windows open we get no relief until after sun down.

Carl removes his shirt in an attempt to cool himself off.

My eyes trail his toned chest and I feel the room getting hotter to my dismay.

I decide to tease him a little, deciding it's not fair he gets to strip and I get to roast. I slip my tank top over my head, ignoring Carl's stare.

I let it fall to the floor in a heap as I look up innocently at Carl.

"Yeah?" I ask, raising a brow.

"Nothing." He shakes his head, turning to look out the window.

I step closer and he tenses slightly.

I run my finger down his neck and along his shoulder blade, tracing patterns along his upper back.

He relaxes into my touch, closing his eyes, his breathing hitching slightly.

I have him right where I want him.

He's at my mercy.

I bring my lips to the base of his neck and kiss gently.

He tilts his head giving me better access as I lick a particularly sensitive spot, before nibbling lightly. I can taste the dried sweat on his skin, a subtle salty flavor.

I move my lips to his ear, blowing lightly.

He shivers.

Finally he turns to face me, his eyes dark with lust.

I smirk, pulling away from him and looking innocently out the window.

"_Don't start something you can't finish Sam_." He growls, his voice irritated.

"_I can finish, trust me_." I counter, pushing him roughly. He falls back into a nearby chair, just like I had intended. His eyes are looking up at me in shock.

I straddle his waist and his palms immeidiatly come to rest on my bare hips, just above my shorts.

I run my fingers through his sweaty hair, tugging lightly. I crash my lips to his and he greets me eagerly, allowing me full control as I deepen the kiss. We are making out and things are getting heated, I pull away, yanking his head gently to the side giving me full access of his neck. I latch on to the sensitive area I discovered earlier and suck hard. He lets out a low groan of pleasure and I feel myself getting wet. I grind my hips against his, feeling the growing bulge against my thigh. This only fuels my desire more. I'm no longer in control, we've both given into our lust and now I am on my knees tugging at his zipper. I am about to pull out his hardness, wanting so bad to taste him, to make him moan like that night I found him touching himself. I want him to be the vulnerable one for a change, begging me not to stop.

"_Sam!_" Carl hisses, zipping up his pants suddenly and standing to his feet.

I hear footsteps approaching, coming up the watchtower steps. I lunge for my tank top, throwing it on just in time as the door swings open revealing our Asian group member.

Glenn eyes us suspiciously, taking in our dishelveled hair and blushing cheeks.

"…Just came to see if either of you needed a break?" Glenn explains awkwardly.

Carl and I automatically shake our heads 'no'.

"No I'm fine." Carl quickly responds, trying so hard to sound casual.

"Actually, I'm going to use the restroom." I pipe up, stepping past Glenn.

"_Way to go_!" I hear Glenn congratulate Carl. I can't help but grin as I walk down the steps.


	10. Chapter 10: Drugs and other stuff

Screaming, a noise I haven't heard in a long time.

Human screams.

I bolt up from my prison bed where I was about to drift off to sleep in desperate need of a nap.

I meet Herschel, Carl and Beth in the corridor.

"Did you hear that?" Beth asks, her voice fearful.

"Probably some walkers got in the prison." Herschel explains gently, cupping a protective hand on his youngest daughters shoulder.

"It sounded human." Carl disagrees.

"Screaming." I clarify, causing three sets of eyes to look towards me. Carl nods in agreement.

"Sam and I will go check it out." Carl turns to leave but is stopped by the elder in the room.

"It's too dangerous, your father wouldn't allow it." He frowns, his gentle eyes twinkling with parental concern.

_He looks like my dad._

_"Be careful." My father states, his eyes serious and caring. I shrug off his words, "Bye dad." I reply snatching up my house keys from the kitchen counter and swinging my way too expensive designer purse over my shoulder._

_I just had to have it. I wouldn't survive my freshman year of high school with a purse from the mall. No I was sophisticated now, I needed Coach, Marc Jacob, Gucci, Kate Spade._

_"Make sure your phones on loud!" He calls after me, but I am already out the front door, my $400 Iphone on silent in my pocket. _

_I just had to have that too. I wouldn't survive high school with anything less than the best it was my last chance at fitting in, at making a reputation for myself. Material possessions were all that mattered to my teenage self, just like every other 14 year old girl. My family didn't matter unless they were buying me something. My peers didn't matter unless they increased my social status. My grades didn't matter unless I was studying with a hot guy like in those teen movies, which never happened in real life. Mean Girls never happened in real life. Nothing mattered except myself, the whole fucking universe revolved around 14 year old me. How different society was back then. How strange. _

_I wish I could go back in time and give my dad a kiss on the cheek and tell him "Thank you for caring, but my safety isn't guaranteed, we could all die at any moment. I just want to say I love you, and mom and Lilly too. You mean the world to me, and I will have my phone on vibrate if you need to reach me and not ignore your texts like I had intended to do because I know you worry about me and I can take two seconds out of my precious time to respond to you." _

_Yeah, 15 year old me would have laughed at the ridiculous notion of ever saying something sentimental like that. _

_17 year old me wishes she could say it.  
_

"My dad isn't here and he's left me in charge of protecting the prison. I'm going." Carl states, his voice firm.

Herschel reluctantly nods. "Be careful." He turns to me, "Both of you." He adds.

I grab my pistol and machete following Carl's lead. We're moving through the maze like corridors of the prison so fast each hallway is becoming a gray, cement blur and I am completely lost within 5 minutes of our journey. The screaming is getting louder, more clear. Definitely human female, and the voice suddenly has a face as we burst into a room engulfed in total chaos.

**_Bang!_**

Carl shoots down a walker, inches away from the screaming dark skinned woman. Four sets of eyes lock on Carl and I as we take down the room full of walkers.

"Is she bit?" Carl asks looking down at the bloody female figure on the ground.

"Yes, help me!" The man kneeling next to her is begging.

"You have to kill her, she'll turn." Carl insists, pointing the barrel of his pistol down at the woman's skull.

"No!" The man sobs, hugging the woman closer to his chest. I realize they are lovers and I feel a pang of empathy engulf my senses.

"Come on, we have to get out of here!" Carl is taking the lead and the group of strangers are following him with me tailing behind, ready to take out any walkers that creep up on us.

We are back near the cell block and the new survivors are huddled around the body of the woman who has been bit.

"You need to kill her." I speak up, trying to keep my voice as gentle as possible despite the harshness of the words.

"I'll do it." Carl announces, stepping closer.

"No." A tall, strong black man holds out a muscular arm to stop him. "We take care of our own." He adds, kneeling down next to the crying man who is holding tightly to his lovers hand. "Donna it's going to be alright." He's saying.

"They're right, it has to be done." The bitten women, Donna whispers stroking her lovers cheek with affection.

"Let's give them some privacy." I whisper in Carl's ear. He nods pulling me away from the scene. He is locking the cell door behind us and the dark skinned woman is looking up at us with fearful, beautiful, big brown eyes.

"You're locking us in here?" She asks in disbelief.

"You have food, water and shelter." Carl responds, his voice sounding cold.

"You can't just lock us away like animals!" The woman shouts angrily, getting up and gripping the steel bars. "Let us out! Tyreese, tell them to let us out!"

"Settle down." The black man, Tyreese is now standing next to the woman, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and casting her a stern look.

"This man," He nods in Carl's direction. "Has opened up his home to us, and we are thankful for his help and generosity."

The woman nods reluctantly and the two of them return to assist their injured friend.

Beth is standing next to Carl, a look of pity on her face as she watches the new survivors closely.

"Shouldn't we help them?" She inquires.

"We did." Carl replies walking away from the scene.

Beth looks to me for a more sensitive response to the situation but I merely shrug.

"He's the boss." I reply coolly, walking back to my own cell.

* * *

"Do you think Rick will let them stay?" Beth is asking Carl.

"I have no idea." Carl replies honestly.

"He let me stay." I offer up and the two teens turn to look at me.

Beth is smiling.

Carl is frowning.

"Yeah, he did." Beth perks up, her tone optimistic as she glances toward the room where the strangers are being kept.

"You were one person, you were a teenager not a group of adults. My dad didn't see you as a threat." Carl reasons.

"Yet a certain blue eyed brunette thought I was a terrorist..." I tease gaining a small smirk from Carl.

"You had a concealed weapon." He shrugs.

"Hardly-" I begin to retort but Beth interrupts us, pointing out a nearby window. "They're back!" She exclaims, rushing out the door.

The group returns with a new addition I hadn't properly met before they left, her names Michonne and she embodies the word fierce.

Carl hadn't told me much about why the majority of the men had left the prison, or where they were going. He said it had something to do with Maggie and Glenn missing and a strange woman turning up claiming to know where they had gone. I felt guilty for not having noticed sooner their disappearance. I had no clue the pair were gone let alone _missing_.

I notice Glenn is horribly beat up, his right eye swelled shut and cuts, bruises and blood all over his body. Maggie looks pale and traumatized, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes hollow and haunted in appearance. Beth rushes over to Rick and kisses him on the cheek, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by Carl and I.

Rick looks slightly shocked but brushes it off as he walks past the teenage girl and embraces his son, thankful to see he's still alive. I am left watching Beth closely, a pink blush tints her cheeks as she stares longingly at Rick hugging Carl before turning to greet her elder sister.

_He's too old for you Beth. I mentally scold. You're going to get hurt._

I make a mental note to bring up the awkward kiss with her next time we are alone.

_That's your best friend's father. That's beyond weird._

* * *

I excuse myself from the reunion to go shower off and change out of my bloody clothes. When I return I notice the new group of survivors have vanished and everyone is strangely quiet a thickness in the air.

I grab my pillow and blanket and go straight to the watch tower, knowing exactly who I'll find up there.

I'm not disappointed when I open the door and find Carl sitting near the window deep in his own thoughts.

"_Hey_." I begin, causing him to glance up at me.

"Did something happen?" I ask lamely, setting down my blankets and moving to take a seat next to him.

He looks away for a few moments, his expression unreadable but definitely not good.

"My dad went nuts." He finally responds.

"And you probably don't want to talk about it?" I offer. He nods silently and I respect his wishes to drop the subject, trying instead to think of a way to cheer him up.

A few ideas swim across my mind but I am afraid I'll just end up pissing him off so I decide to just give him some space.

After a while I am almost asleep when I feel fingertips grazing my bare shoulder. I turn my body slightly, looking up into a pair of stunning blue eyes.

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice tired.

"Today sucked." Carl replies laying his body down next to mine. I turn over fully to face him.

"I was hoping you could fix it." He adds softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek. I smirk up at him, no longer tired.

"I think we could arrange that." I offer slyly. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Anything." He whispers, his face inching closer to my own. My eyes immeidiatly lock upon his soft lips and how inviting they look. I close the few centimeters between us, brushing my lips against his. Carl immeidiatly deepens the kiss, his tongue invading every inch of my mouth in lust. He seems to enjoy kissing me, it takes his mind off of the shit world we live in and allows him to focus on something good for a change. At least, that's how it makes me feel. I pull him closer to me so that he is leaning over my body. I need more of the euphoric feeling Carl gives me, he's like my drug, my escape from reality, my own brand of heroine.

Carl pulls away, staring into my eyes his features soft. He looks so much more relaxed, I must have the same effect of him as he does me.

"_I could kiss you forever_." He whispers, moving his lips from mine and down to my neck. I enjoy the shivers that shoot down my spine each time he hits a certain sweet spot. My mind feels hazy with pleasure. I let my eyes drift shut momentarily, focusing on the sensation of his warm, moist lips against my hot skin.

"_I want to taste ever inch of you_." His voice is husky and I whole heartedly agree with his statement.

_You can devour me Carl Grimes._

I let out a soft moan as his lips trail down to the top of my cleavage, my skin getting more sensitive the farther down he goes. This seems to give him a burst of confidence as his fingertips slide against the fabric at my waistline, lifting it up and over my head. I am not wearing a bra it's too damn hot to sleep with one, yet suddenly I am freezing cold as the night air hits my exposed chest. Carl senses my discomfort and takes hold of one bare breast rubbing his thumb over the nipple warming it up instantly. His mouth greets the other one, as he gently licks and sucks on it causing me to groan in pleasure.

His mouth is so hot against my skin. I am running my fingers through his messy hair, making it more dishelveled than it already was. Carl glances up at me, our eyes locking for a split second as he swirls his tongue around my erect bud while pinching my other nipple at the same time. "oh god." I breathe my entire body is on fire under his touch. Suddenly his mouth unlatches from my breast and he is stripping his flannel shirt. I sit up, running my hand down his pale chest, taking in each crevice in his skin and the way his muscles quiver under my touch.

I grab for his belt, undoing it quickly. Doubt flashes in his eyes for a moment, he is nervous. I push him down gently, repositioning my body so that I am now hovering above him. I unzip his jeans, feeling a stiff bulge under the dense fabric.

His face holds a mix of nervous excitement and I realize at this moment that Carl has never gone this far with a girl. I love the fact that I finally have the upper hand on him, he's now the vulnerable one and I am the one in control, dominating him.

I free his stiff member and he is right, I'm not at all disappointed by its size. My mouth immeidiatly meets his tip and Carl arches his body in pleasure underneath me, letting out a soft moan as I take his entire length into my hot mouth. I lick up the length then come back to the base and repeat over and over, working my tongue against his hard skin. I feel his hands thread themselves in my hair and I glance up at his face to find his head thrown back in pleasure, his lips parted letting out heavy, lust filled breathes. I work my mouth passionately against him and it doesn't take long til I feel him twitch against my tongue, releasing himself entirely into my throat. I swallow and allow him to throb in my mouth for a few more seconds, letting go of every last drop. Finally his grip in my hair relaxes. I move to lay down next to him and he doesn't even bother putting himself away as he pulls the blanket over us and snakes his arm around my waist.

"Wow…" He whispers a shy smile on his lips, he kisses my cheek sweetly.

"How's your day going now?" I ask playfully, nuzzling into his chest.

"Best day of my life." He responds, pulling me closer.


	11. Chapter 11: Just lust

The Georgia sun is shining through every single window in the room and it's hot, horribly hot, stifling hot.

_I miss northern summers, so much milder. _

Untangling my limbs from Carl I find my shirt on the floor and pull it on over my head.

I glance down at Carl to find his crystal eyes squinting up at me.

"It's so bright." He mumbles, his voice groggy with sleep. He lets out a yawn as I grab the blankets from him and begin to fold them in a neat pile.

The lack of blankets exposes a hard Carl and I can't help but smirk before I look away.

I can hear him buckling his belt and shuffling around the room looking for his flannel shirt discarded in last night's passion.

We decide on leaving our blankets and pillows in the tower since we spend nearly every night in here anyway.

I am surprised things aren't awkward between Carl and I. I had half expected him to be more affectionate towards me this morning, maybe even clingy consider last nights events.

_You sucked his dick it's not like you're a couple now._

_You're still just friends._

_Friends _

_with _

_benefits. _

_Is that what we are now? _I silently wonder.

Neither of us shows any acknowledgement about last night and I can't help but feel a hollow pit within my stomach.

_You're just hungry. _I reason.

He could at least give me a peck on the lips or a hug, _something, anything_.

_I mean I did suck his dick after all…_

_Men don't fall in love with whores. No, men like Carl fall for good girls like Beth_. I remind myself.

_I am Carl's 12 pack of booze. I'm fun when drinking but the next morning I'm just a hangover, a hazy memory, a mistake. _

_It's the end of world, what did you expect? Do you really want to fall in love with him? _

_No. _

_I do not want to fall in love. There isn't enough time for love. Either one of us could die by tonight and then what's left? Heartache. I've had enough heartache. I've lost enough people. _

_This is for the best. Do not get attached to this boy. He's just an escape from reality._ I remind myself.

_Love cannot exist in this world, only lust. _

* * *

"Not a bad shot." Daryl comments.

My redneck instructor is leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. I can't help but notice his biceps, his cut off sleeves do nothing to hide them. I swallow and refocus my thoughts on the target in front of me.

_Now you're drooling over every guy in the prison? You want to suck him off too? God, what's wrong with me? _I mentally scold myself desperately willing the blush to disappear from my cheeks.

Focus on the target, not on his sexy hair.

_Carl's hair is sexy._

Quit staring at his blue eyes.

_Carl's eyes are blue._

I release the arrow and I miss terribly.

"That was shit." Daryl states bluntly, no sugar coating it.

"I'm getting distracted. I think I need a break." I reply irritated with myself.

"Get another bulls eye, then we'll have supper." Daryl replies, his gaze firm.

I collect my arrows from the spare mattress leaning against the wall, ripping five out of ten arrows from the red spray painted dot in the middle.

I'm a 50/50 shot and in this world those odds will get you killed. I need to be 100% accurate or I die.

* * *

Beth and I are sitting across from each other Indian style picking weeds from the cracks in the cement.

We're bored and hot and we've run dry of conversation a long time ago letting a comfortable silence linger between us.

"Do you ever wonder what your life would be like right now if this disease didn't happen?" Beth throws out another useless thought. The girl is stuck in a fantasy world, always asking '_what if_?'

"Not really, I don't have time to think like that." I shrug, plucking a blade of grass and twirling it between my fingers.

"Well I do, I wonder all the time…" Beth's voice is filled with sorrow.

I look up at her watching as the wind picks up her hair and the sunlight makes it shimmer like glitter even through the layer of grease and dirt.

"Tell me about it." I reply softly, letting down my cold exterior for a moment. I can tell she needs to talk.

Beth glances up at me, a smile suddenly forming on her cracked lips.

"I'd be getting excited for my senior year of high school. I'd have a handsome boyfriend his name is Jimmy. We would have been dating for 4 years now; we plan on getting married after graduation. My daddy would throw a hissy fit but we're too young to care what he thinks, we're in _love_… "

I allow myself to smile as the girl continues.

"He'd propose to me under the willow tree near our favorite stream. I'd say yes and he'd slip this gorgeous rock on my finger. I'd jump on him and give him a big ole kiss on the lips and he'd spin me around and around and _around_…"

Beth pauses for a long time, lost in her '_what if_?' fantasy.

"Do you think there's love anymore? In the world now, are people still capable of falling in love?" Beth asks sadly.

"I don't know." I answer honestly.

"It's okay to dream Beth, but be careful. Remember what's real and what's not real." I offer up a piece of advice.

Beth looks up at me confusion written on her features.

"_Rick is not real_-" **BANG!**

My head whips frantically around for the source of the noise, I am crouched down low, my hand on my machete concealed under my shirt. I'm ready to fight.

**BANG! BANG!**

Gunshots ring out across the prison yard and I have no idea where they are coming from or who they are coming from.

Beth lets out a scream as a bullet zooms over her head. I grab her arm and pull her behind some nearby barrels for shelter.

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

Beth is covering her ears and closing her eyes. I am looking around, desperate to discover where the bullets are coming from. A bullet penetrates the metal of the barrel and Beth screams again.

_We can't hide here forever, who ever it is they know where we're hidden._

_We need a gun._

As if hearing my thoughts Maggie and Carl bolt out of the prison door and run over to us, throwing us each a rifle.

Maggie is aiming for the woods.

Carl and I follow her line of vision. There's a foreign truck outside the fence and I can make out two silhouettes shooting from behind the open doors of the vehicle.

One of those shadows is shooting at us while the other is shooting into the forest off to the left.

"You're dad's in there!" Beth cries out.

Carl seems unconcerned, his focus entirely on the truck as he shoots one bullet after another trying to make a kill.

"Wasn't Herschel in the yard?" I ask.

Maggie turns to look at me her green eyes wide with fear.

"I don't see him." Beth begins to worry, I can tell by the cracking of her voice she is about to burst into tears. "What if he's been shot?" She cries.

"Daddy's fine, I know he is." Maggie replies sternly, focusing back on the intruders and letting off a few more shots.

I keep an eye out for anyone creeping up on us since I can only shoot a target up close and not long range.

I hear a crashing sound and turn my attention back towards the forest and prison yard to see another truck barreling through the fence. The shooting stops and everything is eerily silent all eyes on the new, closer threat.

Finally Maggie and Carl begin shooting at the truck just as the back drops down and a hoard of walkers come stumbling out into the grassy yard.

I begin shooting the walkers, finally given a target in my range. Everything is chaotic, people shooting people, people shooting zombies.

Finally the trucks disappear and we are left to take out just the zombies, but there's too many and we don't have enough ammunition to kill them all so we close off the yard and retreat to the safety of the prison.

* * *

"It's the Governor, it has to be him." Glenn's saying as he paces back and forth.

"We're under attack." Maggie adds.

"We need to do something _now._" Glenn speaks again, turning his attention to Michonne who has been staying silent up until this point.

I look over at the beautiful woman, she reminds me so much of a wild, feral animal. Beautiful, exotic but deadly and dangerous I wish I could be as strong and intimidating as she is.

"We can kill him, you and I, we go back and shoot him he'll never see it coming." Glenn devises a plan.

Michonne nods silently in agreement.

"You're planning an assassination? Don't you think it's too soon, you and Maggie just got back. You've hardly healed." Herschel is frowning, his eyes filled with concern. He seems to care about Glenn as if he is one of his own. It's very sweet.

Finally I've had enough of the arguing.

I was not at Woodbury, hell I didn't even know Glenn and Maggie had been missing. I don't know who is attacking us or why. My only job is to shoot our enemies and shoot walkers. I am the newest member of the pack and haven't been here long enough to help the group devise a plan for revenge. My role is to do as they say and let the leaders of our group decide what's best.

I quietly slip away, needing to clear my head and deciding I am no use to the conversation.

I decide to go to the locker room and wash off the dirt and sweat.

_Is this what you plan on doing forever? Run away from your problems? Wash away your fears? The stress won't go down the drain, it's not dirt you can't just scrub it off and be done with it. _

I turn on the shower and strip out of my clothes.

I was never good at facing my anxieties, even before the apocalypse. Distraction is how I deal with my problems, distract and distract until it all catches up to me and I can't run away any longer. Then I deal with it and dealing with stress usually consists of me going insane balled up in a corner crying my eyes out.

_God, you're pathetic Sam. _

Suddenly I feel a pair of arms gripping my shoulders and I let out a scream as I turn around.

Carl clamps his hand over my lips and I can hear him shushing me over the running water.

_"Shhhhh_ it's okay_." _He whispers.

I relax slightly, still extremely defensive and on edge from the attack.

When he's sure I won't scream out again he lets go and I look at him fully, taking in his exposed and naked body.

I didn't hear him come in, I was too absorbed in washing myself off and engulfed with my inner thoughts to notice.

He steps closer to me pressing himself against me and crashing his lips against mine. The cool water trails down our bare skin as we make out under the showerhead. I close my eyes and allow myself to fully relax into Carl's arms, focusing on his lips instead of the gunshots still ringing through my ears.

_Distraction. _

We pull apart and look at each other for a long moment. Finally Carl reaches a hand down to mine and takes the bar of soap from my palm. He gently turns me around and I feel him washing my back. I scoop up my hair and pull it over my shoulder to give him better access as I focus on the soap trailing across my skin and the warmth of his hand washing over the goose bumps from the cold water.

When he's finished I slowly turn around and he is looking at me, all of me standing naked in front of him and his eyes are turning darker in lust. He drops the soap and silently steps forward, his eyes still trailing every inch of me, his gaze hungry like a lion about to feast upon the flesh of a lamb.

His hands are on my breasts and the pads of his thumbs are moving in circles against my hard, erect nipples. I step backwards and my bare back is pressed into the tiled wall as he steps closer bringing his mouth to my neck and sucking hard.

I pull him closer, running my hands through his wet hair as his lips move lower and lower. I glance down when I feel his hand gripping behind my thigh as he guides my right leg up to rest over his shoulder. He is kneeling before me the cold water dripping from the tips of his bangs and into his eyes.

I shiver and suddenly his mouth is on a part of me that he's only dared to touch in my wildest dreams. I feel his free hand spreading me open giving his hot tongue full access to my most sensitive region. I release a moan that I can no longer hold back as he continues lapping, licking, and sucking on my bud. My moans of pleasure increase his passion as he moves his tongue lower to taste the evidence of my lust seeping out of me. He slips his finger inside of my folds as he moves his mouth back to my sweet spot and continues his licking.

I feel my legs quiver beneath me as the pleasure builds up in my core, his hand pumping in and out of me and his mouth moving against my clit, I am getting hotter and hotter until I can no longer feel the coldness water and all I feel is his mouth and his fingers sending me over the edge and into pure ecstasy.

My head is thrown back and I only half notice myself getting more and more vocal as I moan louder and then I am saying his name, begging him. I feel the orgasm wash over my body and it feels amazing and nothing else matters except this moment.

_Distraction. _

Carl removes his fingers from inside of me and laps up my juices, greedy to taste me like I tasted him last night.

"You're so wet." He groans, slipping his tongue fully inside me once more.

"God Carl." I curse, my legs about to give way beneath me.

_How far is this going to go? _A rational part of my mind wonders.

The irrational part doesn't really care as Carl stands up and shuts off the water. He turns me around and my breasts are pushed up against the tiled wall as I feel his hard member rubbing between my slick thighs.

"I want you." Carl groans into my neck sending shivers down my spine.

"I want you too." I pant, my voice still breathless from the heavy orgasm moment's prior.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Carl asks, his fingers rubbing circles against my hips as he waits for an answer.

I turn around to face him an irritated look on my face.

"Now you decide to care about my feelings? I'm just a distraction Carl, someone to fuck, let's not pretend this means more than it does." I snap.

Hurt flashes behind Carl's eyes in response to my harsh words, clearly caught off guard by my sudden verbal attack.

"Screw me hard and tomorrow we will pretend this never happened." I add and suddenly Carl is glaring at me angrily, his blue eyes piercing into me like daggers.

"Is that what you think? You think I don't care about you?" He demands and I scoff sarcastically in return.

"I _know_ you don't care about me. Let's not sugar coat what's going on between us, we are using each other. No feelings involved, no caring.-"

"Don't tell me how I feel. You do not know me." Carl interrupts.

"You're right I hardly know you, yet here you are so eager to put your dick in me." I growl. "Because you care about me so much right?"

Carl steps away from me.

"I didn't ask for what happened last night, I had no idea it would go that far. I like you Sam I do care about you. I couldn't just do this with someone who meant _nothing_ to me, I'm not that type of guy." Carl is obviously furious by my assumption of his character, as he grabs a nearby towel and begins to dry off. I do the same wrapping a towel around me and crossing my arms defensively over my chest as I watch him slip on his boxers and then his jeans zipping them up with as much anger as he can muster in the small action.

"If you didn't feel comfortable doing this you could have said something, I would have stopped, I thought you wanted this too. You sure seemed more than willing a few minutes ago" Carl snaps bitterly.

"I just want to make it clear where we stand, if you're going to fuck me _do it_ but don't get feelings involved."

Carl slips on his t-shirt and is glaring at me hard, even I am surprised at how icy cold my voice sounds as the words slip from my mouth.

"Whatever's going on between us means **_nothing_**." I clarify.

"Fine Sam, you don't mean shit to me." Carl growls before storming off out of the locker room.

I feel sick to my stomach but force myself to ignore the guilt rising in my chest.

_I had the guts to speak the truth, I did nothing wrong._ I reassure myself.

_He's lying to me and he's lying to himself. _

_I mean nothing to you Carl Grimes. _

_And I never will. _

_Because love does not exist anymore._


	12. Chapter 12: Clear Part I

"We're going on a run tomorrow, Daryl tells me that you're improving with the bow and arrow?" Rick questions and I shrug still not feeling completely confident with my skill.

"I'm decent, I've been practicing but I still got a long way to go 'til I'm a good shot." I admit with a frown.

Rick looks unconvinced his gaze sharpening. "Daryl doesn't give out compliments easily if he says your good your _good_."

I nod my head.

"I want you to go with me, Carl and Michonne tomorrow to get weapons. It will give you an opportunity to practice using a moving target if we come across any walkers. You okay with that Sam?" Rick asks and I let myself smile up at him.

"_Yes _sounds awesome." I reply hoping he picks up on my enthusiasm. I'm truly grateful to be a part of his group and it means a lot that he trusts me enough to take me along with him.

"Good, now go get some rest." He dismisses me giving me a light pat on the shoulder as he walks past. I feel nervous excitement bubbling within me as I make my way up to the watchtower.

Carl is already asleep or at least appears to be, as he makes no acknowledgement towards my presence in the room. I ignore him, slipping beneath my blankets and turning on my side trying to calm myself down enough to fall asleep.

_It's going to be a big day tomorrow._

* * *

When I open my eyes I realize it's daylight. I quickly sit up and look around the room, noticing Carl's blankets in a heap on the floor.

_Thanks for the wake up call._ I mentally curse ripping off my covers and running back down to the cellblock in order to get everything I need for the run.

Everyone is finishing up breakfast as I change out of my shorts and into a more practical pair of jeans, slipping on a bra and tank top. Throwing my hair up in a messy ponytail so it's out of the way I slip my machete into my boot and strap a pistol to my hip. Slinging my bow and arrow set across my shoulder I have just enough time to eat a small bowl of oatmeal before we go.

"Good luck Sam." Beth offers casting me a reassuring smile.

"Be careful." Maggie adds and I nod in return.

Sitting in the hot car I roll down the window allowing the humid breeze outside to whip at my skin as we drive, doing nothing to cool off my body. I notice a hitchhiker on the side of the road backpacking his way through Georgia. I expect us to slow down and pull up next to him but we don't, instead Michonne presses more down harder on the gas."Wait! Help me please! STOP!" The man is screaming. I pivot around in my seat and watch as he chases after us.

I feel sad for the man and I want to stop the car and help him. It only makes sense we could use another solider in this war against the Governor.

"Why aren't we stopping?" I can't help but ask. I don't understand why we're doing this. Have we really become so cold, so heartless?

Rick looks at me back through the mirror and I catch his pale blue eyes, a few shades lighter than his sons.

"He could be dangerous, it's not worth risking the safety of the group." Rick explain and I'm wondering how he can shut off his humanity so easily and then I'm wondering if I will soon become like him. Could that be me leaving another human to die?

I glance over at Carl who's looking out the window, we haven't said a word to each other since our fight last night and I'm assuming he's still pretty pissed off.

He looks completely miserable, glaring over at Michonne as she deviates from the road and into a ditch as we make our way around a group of abandoned cars.

I watch as a walker struggles beneath the weight of an overturned car, snarling and flailing her limbs in an attempt to free her body. We slow down more and then we stop completely and I look up into the passengers seat at Rick casting him a questioning look. He looks from me to Michonne and all I can see is the back of her head as I hear the tires spinning each time she accelerates the gas petal.

_Awesome we're stuck. Karma's a 's what we get for not picking up a hitchhiker.  
_

I am about to open my door when a walker appears out of literally nowhere and begins banging his fists against the glass. I jump back into Carl, the walker's sudden appearance scaring the living shit out of me.

I look past Carl at two walkers scraping their hands against his window. I can feel the car being swayed back and forth as more and more walkers surround the vehicle trying to claw their way in.

"Cover your ears." Rick commands and I do as he says, watching as he rolls down his window a few inches and points the tip of his gun out from the gap blowing a walkers brains clear out. He does this again and again and Carl and I soon follow his lead, doing the same.

I shoot the walkers on my side and open the car door, saving the rest of my ammo and using my machete to take out the two walkers at Michonne's door.

The area's quickly cleared and now I'm leaning against the hood of an abandoned Chevrolet watching as Rick shows Carl how to get the tire unstuck from the mud using a floral print scarf.

Michonne puts the car in reverse and it works and we're off just as the hitchhiker catches up to us still screaming and begging us to wait for him.

I feel pity for the guy and I sense somewhere deep down Carl feels the same because when I glance over at him he is staring at the back of his father's head frowning.

* * *

We arrive in a small town filled with Victorian era charm. It feels so peaceful, especially since it's lacking in a living population, lacking in _life_.

We get out of the car and walk through the main street in town where most of the business once resided.

Passing a post office and then a fire hall and then a small police station. We go inside only to find its gun supply completely drained clean.

"So what do we do now?" I ask nudging an empty box of ammo with the tip of my foot.

"Are there anymore police stations here?" Michonne asks Rick who is pacing back and forth cursing under his breath.

"Not for miles." Rick answers.

"We need the guns that were here." Michonne states and this only seems to agitate Rick further.

"There's a few guns in town, some that bartenders and business owners kept hidden behind counters, I know cause I signed the permits for them. They might still be there." Rick finally offers up a new plan.

_My mind is racing at Rick's words 'I signed the permits.' Which could only mean one thing._

"**_You lived here_**?" I blurt out in utter surprise.

I had no idea we were in Carl and Rick's hometown. _This is where they lived this is a part of their history this is where Carl was born and this is where his father made a living as a sheriff. This is their __**home**__. Somehow the idea blows my mind._

"Yes we lived here and I worked in this station." Rick answers my question easily before turning back to Michonne. "Do you have a problem with that plan?" He asks, his voice growing harder as his attention shifts from me to the other female opposite of him.

"No Rick, I don't have a problem." Michonne responds calmly, picking up the only bullet in the room and placing it in Rick's hand. A peace offering.

We are walking around town and suddenly everything seems more interesting as I take mental snap shots of every detail in my head. As we walk closer to the center of town I notice more and more graffiti.

**NO GUILT REMEMBER THAT.**

We stop at **TURN BACK NOW AND LIVE.**

I notice what appears to be a maze of booby traps littering the road ahead of us.

_Clever, so clever_. I am silently impressed by the madness behind whomever created this mess. _It's boarder line artistic._ I muse pricking my finger against the tip of the nearest spear.

Cautiously make my way behind Rick and Carl, Michonne at my heel we're halfway through the maze of protruding wooden poles, barbed wire, and cages filled with various wild animals from pigeons to rats when I hear a familiar groaning from behind us. Carl gets his dads attention pointing to the female walker who is following us into the trap. Michonne unsheathes her sword but Rick stops her cutting her off with his words.

"She'll get caught." He states and we all watch as she walks straight into a line of barbed wire that snags into her waistline. **BANG!**

A bullet zips through her forehead and I look up to see a shadowed figure up on a rooftop pointing the barrel of his gun down at us, his next moving targets.

Rick holds up his hands and the rest of us follow his lead. The male figure on the roof is shouting down at us to drop our weapons and leave.

"We need that rifle." Michonne whispers to my left.

"I can get up there." She adds glancing over at Rick who nods. "Carl, Sam run to the car now." He whispers before shooting up at our attacker. We scatter like ants and the next thing I know I am running and I am following behind Carl out of pure instinct as bullets spray over our heads. He pulls me behind him without a word as we stand in the doorway of a barbershop. I have my gun ready and pointed towards the street and Carl is leaning against the wall in an attempt to blend in completely, his pistol against his chest and he head cocked to the side trying to peak around the corner.

I hear an exchange of gun fire and I see Rick move from behind a blue Ford truck, to crouching behind a rusty barrel and the gunshots are ringing louder and sound as if they are on top of us now. Next thing I know Carl has shot the masked man in the chest and he is lying on the sidewalk in front of us. Michonne and Rick come closer and look in astonishment between the lifeless body on the ground and up at Carl who still has his gun pointed down at the man he just shot so easily.

"I told you to go to the car. I didn't want you to do that." Rick says, and Carl shrugs his shoulders looking firmly at his father. "I had to do it." He replies.

"Are you okay?" Rick asks, looking between Carl and I.

"Yeah, fine." I answer softly and Carl nods.

Rick leans down and points out that the man was wearing a wooden vest and is still alive. This causes Carl to tense and his finger rests against the trigger ready to shoot the man again if needed. Rick lifts up the mask the man is wearing and reveals a dark skinned man who appears to be completely knocked out.

"I know him." Rick is saying as he scoops the man up from under his arm.

"Help me get him inside." Rick demands, speaking up at Michonne who is looking at him as if he's gone mad. She doesn't protest though as she silently bends down and scoops up his other arm and together they drag him back inside the building from which he came. I follow behind them wondering what the hell is going on.

**I AM NOT SHITTING YOU.**

_How eloquent, this man has such a way with words. _

"Watch out for the wire." Rick calls out to us from the top of the steps and I carefully step over a near invisible string and pull back the sheet revealing a bloodstained axe dangling from the ceiling ready to slice my head open.

_Lovely, this man truly is creative. _A sick part of me is amused by his efforts.

"Watch the wire." I turn back to Carl offering him the warning in case he didn't hear. He ignores me still not speaking to me although his actions outside didn't go unnoticed.

_At least he wasn't too pissed to let me die. _

_TO BE CONTINUED. _


	13. Chapter 13: Clear Part II

**CLEAR **

**DUANE'S TURNED.**

**CLEAR**

**EVERYONE TURNS.**

**CLEAR**

**RICK'S HOUSE BURNED**

**CLEAR**

Covering every inch of wall space is the word "Clear". It would take someone at least an entire day to read all of the calligraphy. It's like an open book, a novel written by a maniac. I am deeply intrigued by the man lying on the cot. Who is he? What is his story? I want to know.

The entire room is stocked with boxes upon boxes of ammunition and at the very least a total of 500 different types of guns, the names of which I do not know. Before the outbreak I had never even seen a gun except for in the movies. Even now my knowledge on the weapon is severely lacking. I was taught the basics, safety on, safety off, aim, shoot, kill.

Michonne grabs a jade duffle bag and begins confiscating as many weapons as possible. Rick stops her halfway through.

"We wait until he wakes up." He says his voice firm.

Michonne looks up at him from the ground casting him that look again, that look that says '_You've lost your mind_.'

"He's alive and we rescued him from becoming a walker meal, I think he's had a good day." She argues calmly.

"We wait." Rick finalizes.

Michonne gives up and abandons the duffle bag in search for food instead. I wonder off a few feet away and into an ajoining room where I find Carl examining a map on the wall. I come to stand next to him studying the picture silently. Neither of us says a word until his father interrupts the tension.

"What'd you find?" Rick asks, stepping closer to his son and peering over his shoulder. Carl doesn't take his eyes off the map as he answers.

"The entire neighborhood is gone." He states his voice holding no emotion whatsoever.

"Is that why you came? You wanted to see our old house?" Rick questions and Carl doesn't respond still looking over the map.

"Is that why you wanted to come?" Rick demands to know and finally Carl gives him an answer.

"I just wanted to come." He shrugs, stepping away from the map and leaving the room. I stay a few minutes longer looking over every detail of the image before me until I feel I've seen enough and I go back to join the others.

Michonne is eating a can of peaches. She offers me some holding out the can without saying a word. I take a slice of the slippery fruit and allow myself to relish in the flavor of something other than Daryl's hunting.

_Peaches use to be my favorite fruit, peaches and blackberries_. I suddenly remember a random fact that I had almost forgotten about my life before. It brings with it a mix of happiness, bitter regret, but mostly heartache.

"I'm going to go outside and get some fresh air." I announce suddenly feeling overwhelmingly depressed. _I need to get away from here._

"I'll go with you." Carl offers just as I'm descending the staircase. I turn back to face him giving him my most suspicious look but he ignores it, brushing past me and out the front door.

Once outside and out of earshot I confront him, grabbing him by the shoulder and whipping him around to face me fully.

"What was that about? I thought you're still mad at me?" I ask completely confused.

"I _am_ still mad at you." He clarifies. "I've got something I have to do, think you can keep your mouth shut?"

I glare at him, mildly offended by his rudeness.

"I'll go with you incase you run into anything." I offer but Carl shakes his head 'No', holding out the palm of his hand to stop me from coming any closer.

"I can handle myself, I want to do this alone." He says.

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the brick wall. "_Fine_ go." I shrug watching as he gives me a long look before walking away. He's halfway down the block when Michonne appears in the doorway next to me.

"Where is he going?" She asks and I shrug in response.

"He wouldn't say." I answer, doing nothing to stop him for a part of me understands that he needs some space.

Michonne has other plans in mind as she runs off after him and I follow out of sheer curiosity. Only catching half the conversation between Michonne and Carl, he's saying he's going to get a toddler bed for Judith since she's outgrown her crib. Michonne is pointing out the fact that he'll need our help carrying the box and Carl looks extremely annoyed with the woman ability to see past his lie.

"You _are_ getting a bed right?" Michonne presses and Carl nods stiffly in return.

"_Well_ the box will be big, we'll help you carry it to the car." Michonne explains casually as I smirk in amusement.

"Shouldn't you guys be taking care of them?" Carl suggests pointing over at three walkers appearing from around the bend.

I get out my bow and arrow excited by the opportunity to shoot something other than a tree or mattress. Lining up my aim on the farthest walkers head, steadying my breath and focusing on my moving target I concentrate as the zombie staggers closer to us. I release the arrow and watch as it zips through the air and lands between the walker's eyes, killing him instantly. I run over to retrieve my arrow feeling extremely pleased with my clean shot.

"You're pretty good at that." Michonne compliments as she shakes the excess blood from her sword having killed the other two walkers with ease.

"Thanks." I smile over at her before turning back around to face Carl. _And he's gone._

"_Shit_." Michonne hisses, running around the corner to catch up to him before it's too late. We find him outside the local Bar & Grille down the block.

"What do you think you're doing? The kid's store is back there." Michonne demands.

"There's something else I have to do for Judith first." Carl replies, wiping the debris and dirt from the window with his sleeve and peering inside of the restaurant.

I catch a glimpse of a few unresponsive walkers sitting at a table waiting for their next meal, _Carl's flesh._

"You're not going in there." Michonne states her voice just as unyielding as Rick's had been.

"You can't stop me, I have to do this." Carl retorts.

"You're right I can't stop you, but you can't stop me from helping you."

Looking over at the woman I am silently impressed by her determination and loyalty.

"_Fine_, I got an idea." Carl replies.

* * *

We fling open the doors to the saloon and Carl and Michonne slide in two cages housing rats to distract the hungry walkers from our flesh.

I have my bow loaded and follow behind Carl as Michonne leads both of us inside.

As quietly as possible Carl does whatever he has to do while I watch our backs.

Everything is going smoothly until I hear a tiny squeaking from behind me and I turn to see one of the two rats scurry past my foot. I look up just in time to see a hoard of walkers shuffling around the bar. There's too many for me to shoot so instead I do the only thing left to do, run.

"Time to go!" I announce, gaining Michonne and Carl's attention as we head for the back door when even more zombies emerge from the kitchen. We make a detour for the front door barely making it outside. I am out of breath and leaning my body weight against the front door trying to help hold the zombies at bay.

"Did you get what you needed?" I ask looking over at Carl.

"No I dropped it, I have to go back inside." He replies quickly, his tone frantic.

"No. No more bullshit we do this my way. You both stay here I'll go back inside. That's the only way we're getting this done." Michonne's tone is final and Carl reluctantly agrees to let her go. Together we hold the door shut while Michonne goes around back and we wait, each second feeling like minutes.

"And you thought you could handle this by yourself." I lightly tease side glancing over at Carl who gives me a half-hearted glare in return.

"What could be in that bar that is so damn important to you? Do you really need a drink that bad?" I wonder out loud and my comment actually earns a soft chuckle from Carl's lips.

"_No_, but there is something else I needed, you'll see." He replies and as if on cue Michonne returns with a hideous paper Mache cat and a small wooden frame. She hands the frame to Carl and I step closer to him looking over his shoulder and down at the image in his hands.

It's a picture. More specifically a portrait of Rick, a much younger version of Carl maybe age 10, and finally a beautiful brunette woman who I assume to be his mother. Each person is smiling they look so happy, so perfectly unaware of their fate.

"I see why this was so important to you, I'd do that again if it meant having a picture of my own family." I whisper.

"Maybe you won't need a picture, maybe you'll find your dad." Carl replies, looking up at me and meeting my gaze.

"Maybe."


End file.
